Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough
by criminally charmed
Summary: Are we really that closely connected?  And as Scott Tracy falls in love, will the connections to the past threaten the future he is working for?
1. Chapter 1

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - I do not own Thunderbirds. As Kate Eppes is featured heavily in this story, I don't own Numb3rs either. Sorry I have been rather silent but I was enjoying time with my family when I wasn't working my tushy off. But, the air is chilling...And I have Alan whump in the works. (Grin!)**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_**Six degrees of separation refers to the idea that everyone is on average approximately six steps away, by way of introduction, from any other person on Earth, so that a chain of, "**__**a friend of a friend**__**" statements can be made, on average, to connect any two people in six steps or fewer. - Wikepedia**_

Spring Break – Tracy Island

Alan Tracy looked around, smiling at the sight in front of him. He had just returned from his first real mission with the Thunderbirds and the fourteen year old truly felt as if he was truly a member of the family once more.

Too bad it had taken surviving a homicidal maniac to make that happen.

But survive they had, and as he watched John and Scott question their father – about International Rescue or Tracy Enterprises, Alan wasn't sure – and Gordon help Fermat with his swimming lessons and Virgil discussing improvements to Thunderbird Two with Brains, Alan couldn't help but sigh in contentment. He knew he could join any one of the groups and be more than welcome. For now, however, he was content to simply watch.

Just then, a hand slid over his shoulder and he looked up to see the smiling face of Tin-Tin standing beside him.

"Hey, Alan," the girl smiled at him. "Mom said dinner won't be ready for almost a half an hour and asked if I would go check on Dad's work down on the beach. Want to come with me?"

Returning her smile, Alan stood up. As they began to walk away, the two teens unconsciously took each other's hand. Pausing when they realized what they had done, both blushed but kept walking towards the beach – still holding hands.

Jeff Tracy had been keeping an eye on Alan the entire time, worried if his youngest still didn't feel as if he belonged. Seeing his "baby" holding hands with a girl he viewed as the member of the family, Jeff couldn't help but smile. Penny had been right.

A wave of sadness rushed over Jeff as he remembered another young girl, one who had been like a member of the family. Both Lucy and his mother, Ruth, had sworn that Sarah Jane Woodbury and Virgil would someday be together. Tragically, the girl had been critically injured in a fire just as she and the middle Tracy son had prepared to graduate high school back in Bailey, Kansas. It had been the final straw that had caused Jeff to move his family to the Island.

Jeff wondered how Sarah Jane was doing. He knew she had made a full recovery. The billionaire had made sure all of the bills for her medical care had gone to him. But he also knew she never spoke of her life in Kansas. All too familiar with painful memories, Jeff felt that it was up to Sarah Jane if she wanted to reconnect with the family.

_Well. _Jeff thought, _I will give Sarah Jane another six months. If I don't hear from her before the end of the summer, I'll send a note. Maybe she just needs to know we miss her._

_Sure rocket-man, _Lucy whispered. _Forget thinking about the idea that if you have any grandchildren in the next few years, you would prefer they be from Virgil – and not Alan._

Jeff grimaced. A shrink would have a blast with him. Either Lucy was haunting him or he just couldn't let go…

Or maybe, he just didn't want to.

Seeing a laughing Alan return, Kyrano between the two teens as they joked and hugged the Malaysian man, Jeff relaxed. Kyrano loved Alan as if he was his own son, and from the look of the man he approved of the teen as a future son-in-law. Yet it was also clear that the man would do everything he could to make sure the two teenagers grew up – but not before they had to.

Life was good.

* * *

><p>Life was rough.<p>

OK, Katherine "Kate" Eppes had always known that. At least since she was nine. That had been how old she was when an escaped drug lord – who had been put into prison years before by her father – had tried to abduct the little girl. Kate had been shot during the rescue but the scars had gone beyond the one on the back of her neck. They had wounded her deeply, affecting her to a point that it had even influenced the person she had become. Kate firmly believed the incident was one of the reasons she had followed in her father's footsteps, becoming an FBI agent.

For the last two months, Kate had been working on an inter-agency task force, hunting a serial killer who had struck repeatedly in southern California. Eight women had died so far. They seemed to have nothing in common – different races, different jobs, different backgrounds. The only commonalities were they were all under thirty-five, single, attractive and successful.

Kate's cousin, Edward, a cardiac surgeon, had been worried about his girlfriend, Emily Haas. The young emergency medical specialist seemed to fit the victimology perfectly. But, for better or for worse, Emily had moved away shortly after breaking up with Edward. Her cousin had been upset but had tried to be understanding.

Snorting lightly, Kate shook her head even as she pulled a cold bottle of ice tea from the fridge. Kate could never understand people like Emily's mother. The bitch had swooped in like the witch she was, belittling Edward and damaging the couple's relationship. Susan Haas had objected at first because Edward's mother was originally from India but had gone ballistic when she discovered that Eppes was not an Old English name as she had first thought, but was, in fact, Yiddish.

"_No daughter of mine will soil herself with some –"_

Kate would never know exactly what Susan would have said because she interrupted at that moment, making it clear she felt the loss of her badge would be worth the revenge she would have if the socialite finished that sentence.

The irony was that Edward's father – Professor Charles Eppes – didn't even practice his religion and had rarely entered the temple the Eppes family worshiped at. It was their grandfather, Alan, and Kate's father, Don Eppes, who were the ones who practiced their faith. To some degree, Kate and her brothers did as well, but –

Shaking her head again, Kate set down her drink and moved to the balcony. Grandpa hadn't been feeling well lately. Maybe she should call him and see if he wanted some company…

Suddenly, Kate felt something around her neck, pulling tightly into her flesh. Grabbing frantically, she cursed the fact she had already secured her service weapon before her hands grabbed a crystal paperweight her uncle had given her the month before.

"_Hey, Katie-Bear."_

_Kate smiled as she looked up and saw her uncle at her desk._

"_Uncle Charlie," the agent stood, quickly going into the older man's arms for a quick hug. "How was Italy?"_

"_Not bad," Charlie said before teasing, "but not a single decent pizza to be found. You'd think they never heard of deep-dish pizza before."_

"_Considering that deep-dish pizza was created in Chicago," Kate said wryly, "I can't understand why."_

"_Well," Charlie laughed, "your grandpa will be wondering what is keeping me. But I called from the airport and told him I would swing by and see if I can convince you to come over for dinner." _

_Kate groaned. "Sorry, Uncle Charlie. This case is – Well, it's bad."_

"_Honey," Charlie grasped her shoulder, pausing as he thought about what to say. "Kate, I watched this job almost devour your father. Don't make the same mistake."_

"_Uncle Charlie, I'll be fine."_

_Charlie shook his head, his once dark curls still bouncing, even as they were turning white. "Katie -" _

_Whatever Charlie Eppes would have said was lost when Kate's phone rang. As she answered it and began to speak, the man pulled out a small bag and placed it on the desk, patting his niece's hand before leaving. _

_Kate had barely acknowledged her uncle leaving, and it was more than an hour before Kate was able to open the bag. A heavy crystal paperweight fell into her hand. Looking at the tiny teddy bear etched into the crystal's surface, the agent sighed. "Katie-Bear" had been her father's nickname for her since she was a toddler, crawling into bed with her parents and cuddling up to her father so that her mother teased that their baby was more like a teddy bear for Don Eppes._

_She really should call her uncle and thank him – But her good intention fell to the wayside as her phone rang once more. When she left that night, Kate took the paperweight with her and set it near her phone at home – a reminder to call her uncle._

_Kate still hadn't called a month later._

Grabbing the paperweight, Kate clenched her fist around it, and smacked it as hard as she could in what she hoped was her attacker's face. A satisfying crunch and a howl of pain assured her that she had hit her target.

The intruder released Kate for a moment but quickly lunged grabbing her arm.

Something about the man struck Kate as familiar, even as she repeatedly used every self-defense technique she knew. In the back of her mind, Kate suspected that this wasn't an everyday intruder or someone from a past case. This was from a very current case. She had somehow drawn the attention of the very serial killer she had been tracking. How or why was irrelevant. Kate was determined not to become victim number nine of this scum.

Luckily for Kate, she had forgotten her cell phone in the car of one of her teammates. Nick Gibbs was approaching her apartment when he heard the sounds of a struggle inside.

"Eppes!" Gibbs called out.

"Gibbs! A little, ugh, help would be – _will you stay down you bastard! – _a little help would be nice, if you have the time."

Nick was trying to break down the door – the unfortunately steel reinforced door – when the neighbor across the hall opened her door and looked out.

"What are you doing," she exclaimed. "You better watch it – she's FBI!"

"So am I," Nick growled. "And Kate needs help, but I can't get in."

"Oh!" the neighbor cried, even as she examined his badge. "I have a key - to water her plants and get her mail if she has to go out of town. Kate has mine. Well, not for plants. I kill all plants. But she feeds Bubba for me."

"Bubba?" Nick muttered even as she grabbed a key chain from a table near the door. As if in answer a fifteen pound Maine Coon cat raced out of the apartment, hissing at the Kate's apartment. Nick opened the door, rushing inside.

The cat beat him to the target, however.

Twenty minutes later, a bystander could be forgiven for mistaking Kate Eppes' apartment for the bull-pen of the FBI office. In Kate's eyes, it was worse.

Her home – her asylum from the madness of her job – was now a crime scene.

"You called it, Kate," Colby Granger said as he entered the apartment, even as Kate was being treated for the minor injuries she had received in the struggle. Looking around, he frowned. "Where is the suspect?"

"On his way to the hospital," Kate shrugged before wincing when the paramedic touched her split lip with a piece of gauze. Feeling the LA Director's eyes on her, Kate shrugged once more.

"Guess none of the other vics were sixth degree black-belts," she muttered even as a crime scene tech picked up the bloody crystal paperweight.

"I want that back," Kate growled. The tech nodded.

"We'll note that Agent Eppes. Did he hit you with it?"

"No," Kate muttered. "I hit him. And my Uncle Charlie gave that to me and -" Kate's breath stuttered before she calmed herself. "And I hadn't even thanked him yet for it."

As if her words had conjured the man, Charles Eppes raced into the apartment. One cop tried to stop him only for half a dozen other members of law enforcement to waive the frantic uncle through.

"Katie, oh, God, baby," he gasped grabbing her and pulling her into his arms. "Katie, are you alright?" Looking at the paramedic he asked, "Is she aright?"

The paramedic stood up, having put his equipment away. Nodding, he gestured at Kate.

"Bumps and bruises, split lip is the worst of it."

With raised eyebrows, Charlie looked back at his niece. "And the suspect?"

"Dislocated shoulder, skull fracture, three cracked ribs, broken nose, broken jaw and possible internal bleeding," the paramedic rattled off. Looking around, he frowned. "How many of you against him?"

"Actually," Nick Gibbs interjected as he walked over, "the suspect was going down for the last time when I finally got in. Kate did all the damage."

"Not the bites and scratches," Kate muttered. "That was Bubba."

"Oh, yeah," Nick chortled. "Attack cat!"

Kate's neighbor had managed to get in, led by the officer who had been questioning her.

"Kate, you're alright," she gasped, cuddling her large cat to her chest. "And look who was so brave, Mama's big boy, Mama's brave angel."

Rubbing the cat's ears as the large feline purred loudly, Kate nodded. "And someone is getting ground steak the next time I cat-sit."

When the neighbor and Bubba had left, Gibbs addressed his boss. "What were you saying about Kate being right?"

"Kate's first report indicated that she thought this was our serial killer. Devon Flint – that's the suspect's name – is without a doubt our killer. He had files and photos on all the vics. Flint worked for some magazine – Modern Woman -"

"Modern Woman?" Kate asked in surprise. "They tried to interview me last year. And they had interviewed Emily."

"Emily? Edward's ex-girlfriend?" Charlie asked in surprise.

"According to what we found in Flint's apartment, Dr. Haas left town before he could get to her. She got lucky."

"She was a target?" Kate asked.

Colby nodded. "He had tons of anti-feminist rhetoric. Seems he felt these women were trying to take away the rightful place of men in the world. They were young, healthy women and should be bearing children for their husband – not taking away men's jobs."

"Son of a bitch," Kate muttered before raising her head. "Uncle Charlie – I need you to do me a favor."

"Sorry, Katie," Charlie sighed. "I can't keep this one from your father."

"Since he's the director of the FBI," Gibbs added, "I doubt you could."

"Not Dad," Kate insisted. "Grandpa. Please – get Grandpa out of town for a couple of weeks. Just until this dies down. Please, Uncle Charlie."

Charlie nodded. His father had suffered a massive heart attack six months earlier. Alan Eppes was recovering nicely but the news that his beloved youngest grandchild had nearly been the victim of a serial killer…

"Maggie and her husband are getting ready to come back to LA County," Charlie mused. "I'll have her call him and ask him to come to Florida and help her with the baby while they are packing everything up."

"Will that work?" Nick asked.

"A chance to get unlimited access to his first great-grandchild?" Charlie grinned. "He may not wait for the plane to fly off."

Kate nodded, watching tightly as her uncle moved away as he pulled out his cell phone to call his daughter. "Director Granger," she said formally to her boss – a man who had known her all of her life.

Colby looked at Kate in concern, the young woman was too much Don's daughter for him not to worry how she was handling this.

"I'm taking that position in Chicago – the one with Computer Crimes."

Colby nodded. It was probably for the best. Kate Eppes was a brilliant agent and a real asset to the FBI, but to say that Don Eppes was going to freak…It may just be the understatement of the century.

* * *

><p>Life sucked.<p>

Jackson Mitchell was a gifted computer software designer. Landing a job out of college with Tracy Enterprises had been a real feather in his cap. But he had never moved up, never been put in charge of a team.

Jeff Tracy himself had admitted to Mitchell why the man had never been promoted. Mr. "Big-shot" Tracy had set Mitchell down and said that the man hadn't managed to fit in, that he wasn't the sort of person that Tracy looked for to lead his teams.

Jack had found himself struggling not to attack the man and stared at a point beyond his boss' shoulder. Glancing at where Mitchell was looking, Jeff Tracy had smiled. Jeff had caught Mitchell staring at the pictures in his office. Softness had crossed Tracy's face as he had picked up a picture with five young men – well, one was really just a boy.

_"My true treasures, my real wealth, my boys. Jackson, when you have someone in your life like that, you know what really matters in this world. You need to step away from your computer at times, appreciate what is around you and realize you have to work with people as well as machines. Life is nothing without those who give it real meaning."_

_Jeff had sighed. "Listen, Jackson – I'll give you another chance. We are opening a new software division in Chicago. It's not a supervisory position, but it will be on a major project. Do well, show yourself to be a team player, and we'll put you into a supervisory position on a trial basis."_

"_Make the most of this opportunity," the billionaire said as he escorted Jackson from his office._

Mitchell packed up the last of his belongings before leaving the New York office. Another opportunity? Being transferred anywhere from the crown jewel of Tracy Enterprises could only be seen as a demotion.

Looking up at the steel and glass castle in the clouds that was the New York home of Jeff Tracy, Mitchell glared as if he could see the man. "I'll be back, Mr. Big. And then we'll see who the king is and who is peasant. You were nothing but the miserable off-spring of a farmer. I'll show you. I'll show them all."

Just then, his cab pulled up and Jackson Mitchell left New York.

But he would be back. They would all be back there one day.

* * *

><p><strong><em>So - should I continue? And do we want convos on even chapters again? - CC<em>**


	2. Chapter 2

**Six Degrees of Seperation isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**Disclaimer - No. **

**We pick up just after the end of "Light and Shadows", Kate met them in "Left by the Wayside" and now they are leaving Alan's birthday dinner. Well, kinda pre-birthday, family only, dinner.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

_A little more than a year later…_

Scott Tracy laughed as he turned his rental car into the parking garage that Kate had pointed him to. He quickly found the area marked "guest parking" and pulled in to the only open slot.

Getting out of the car, Scott could tell Kate was surprised when he hurried around and opened the door for her, holding out a hand to help her down from the SUV.

"Thanks," she smiled at him, even as she took his hand. "But I can get out of a vehicle all on my own."

"I doubt there isn't much you can't do," Scott said with earnestly. "But my parents drummed good manners into us. It just took better in some of the Tracy boys than others."

Kate chuckled. "Gordon is something else. My Uncle Charlie would love him. Which is a good thing, since he is dating my uncle's wife's cousin's step-daughter."

"Huh?" Scott said blankly, completely lost.

Kate's light chuckled turned into a full blown, deep, throaty, laugh – one that Scott found incredibly hot.

"Lisa McKenna – Gordon has been dating her since last year. She works for your father in the New York office?" When Scott nodded in agreement, Kate continued, even as she fished out her keys.

"Lisa mentioned to an FBI agent during the investigation of Alan's poisoning that she and Gordon were dating. What Lisa didn't know was that Daria Delgado is an old friend of mine and when she ran a background check on her, Daria noticed that she listed as a reference Professor Amita Ramijun-Eppes, who is married to my uncle."

"Why did Lisa mention that she was dating Gordon?" Scott asked even as he pressed the call button for the elevator. "I got the impression that she was trying to keep that quiet, since she doesn't want anyone to feel their relationship is improper. You know – "dating the boss's son" and all."

Kate sighed as they entered the newly arrived elevator car. "Lisa probably wouldn't have under normal circumstances. But most people tend to get nervous or upset when questioned by the FBI. The ones who don't get nervous? They are the ones to be suspicious of."

As the elevator stopped at Kate's floor, the pair exited, with Scott asking, "So – how big a family do you have anyhow? You've mentioned your dad and your uncle, and I know you have at least one cousin who used to date Emily, but that is it."

Shrugging, Kate stopped in front of her apartment door and slipped the key in the lock. Turning it, she answered, "You'll find a lot of people in law enforcement are slow to talk about their families. It's a good way to get them hurt – or worse."

Opening the door, she turned and smiled at Scott. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? It's a long drive back from Boston. And it is the least I can do after you drove me back."

"Well," Scott agreed even as he followed her inside. "You had no way of knowing your rental car would decide to die."

Kate frowned. "I never liked rentals, but some jerk ran into my car down in the garage. Luckily, he had insurance. Unfortunately, Massachusetts doesn't insist on auto insurance for everyone. I pay extra for an uninsured driver rider on my plan, but still."

As Kate began to make coffee in the small kitchen, Scott looked around the apartment. It was cozy if somewhat small. But it was clearly designed with comfort in mind.

"I like your place," Scott called out.

"Thanks," Kate said. "But you should be telling my mother. She got everything for my apartment in LA and I've just transported it from there to Chicago to here. Hey, can you do me a favor? Hit the button on the stereo. I have a CD in there, I think. If not, just grab one, hmm?"

Scott pressed a button on the cd player and was pleased to hear some modern country music playing. He had always favored the genre.

Moving away from the stereo, Scott began to once more focus on the decorations in the room. Looking at a group of pictures spread over a bookcase and hanging on the wall, Scott smiled. "Is this your family?" he asked, gesturing to a large portrait on the wall.

Kate entered the living room, smiling and nodding as she handed Scott a cup of coffee.

"Yes," she said, pointing to different people as if introducing them. "These are my brothers, Andy and Dan. Believe it or not, they are twins. So ignore Andy when he introduces himself as my oldest brother – it's only by eleven minutes." Grinning when Scott chuckled, Kate continued.

"That's my Uncle Charlie, Aunt Amita and their kids – Maggie, Ben and Edward."

"That's the doctor Emily used to date?" Scott asked.

Kate nodded before going on, pointing to a smaller photo on a low shelf. "Yes – you can see in this picture Ben sent me, this is Maggie, Edward, Ben, Ben's wife, Lila and Maggie's husband, Jacob. Jacob is holding their daughter, Eleanora and Lila is holding their son, Nicky. This picture was taken after Nicky's bris."

"Brisk?" Scott asked in confusion before Kate started laughing.

"Bris," she explained, laughing. "It's when the baby is circumcised on the eighth day."

"Don't they do that in the hospital?" Scott asked.

Kate shrugged. "Not for Jewish children." Seeing Scott's surprise, she leaned back. "Is that a problem?"

"As long as I wouldn't have to do it, nope," Scott grinned.

Seeing that Scott was honest with her, Kate relaxed and moved closer to him. She smiled when he put an arm around her shoulders as she continued.

"That picture," Kate pointed to the large family portrait, "was taken when I was sixteen." Her smile grew sad as she pointed out the elderly man in the center of the picture.

"That was Grandpa Eppes. It will be a year in August that we lost him," she said sadly. When Scott's arm drew her closer in comfort, Kate leaned into the embrace, welcoming the warmth.

"And who is the guy who looks like he eats tanks for breakfast?" Scott asked, almost dreading the answer – Kate really did look like the man.

Kate grinned. "That's my father. Daddy was annoyed at the photographer for flirting with me. The guy almost broke his camera, he dropped it so often because his hands were shaking."

Scott chuckled at the image before frowning. "Guy must have been a perv. You were only sixteen."

Shaking her head, Kate laughed. "He had been told that Dad wanted the portrait for me graduating high school. How was he to know I wasn't eighteen?"

Guiding him to the sofa, Scott looked back at the portrait again. "And that lady is your mom, right? Your brothers kinda look like her."

"Well," Kate mused as they made themselves comfortable, "I always thought Andy looked a bit like Uncle Charlie, but yes, that's Mom. Andy and Dan both are prosecutors just like her, only she was federal and they are city and state, respectively."

"Three lawyers in the family?" Scott asked in surprise. "How many doctors?"

"Well," Kate counted on her fingers, "Edward is the only medical doctor. Ben, Maggie, both of their spouses, Uncle Charlie and Aunt Amita all have doctorates. Actually, Uncle Charlie has three, Ben and Aunt Amita each have two."

Scott chuckled again. "Anyone ever tell you guys are a bunch of overachievers?"

Kate sipped her coffee before pointing at Scott. "Pot – meet kettle."

Shrugging, Scott agreed but chose to stay silent. Suddenly, Kate reached out and took his coffee cup, setting it on the table in front of them. Smiling at Scott, she leaned a little closer.

"So," she mused, "like the song is saying – "are you gonna kiss me or not?", hmm?"

Kissing her softly at first, Scott increased the intensity of the kiss as Kate responded passionately. After a few minutes, he leaned back, slightly out of breath.

"The song also says – "are we gonna do this or what?"," he teased.

Kate froze, her chocolate eyes wary. "I'm not into casual relationships."

"Katherine Eppes," Scott swore softly, "I strongly suspect there is not going to be anything casual about us. Tracy men have a rep – we fall hard and we fall fast. You need to catch me, Agent Eppes – because I am definitely falling."

Smiling seductively, Kate stood. "Watch it, buster. I have handcuffs."

"Oh, promises, promises…" Scott chuckled as he followed her down the hallway, barely listening as the song ended.

_Are you gonna kiss me or not  
>Are we gonna do this or what<br>Look at all the love that we've got  
>And it ain't ever gonna stop<br>Are you gonna kiss me or not_

_Yeah baby I love you a lot_  
><em>I really think we've got a shot<em>  
><em>Are you gonna kiss me or not?<em>

* * *

><p>Devon Flint had worked hard for the last year to be considered "practically harmless". Considering his trial in California had ended with the death penalty, convicting him of murdering eight bitches – he should have gotten a medal for that – Flint had expected to go into deep lockdown here at Joliet.<p>

Instead, the assistant warden had laid things out for him. "_I know what you have been convicted for in California. But you are here because your DNA was found at the crime scene of three unsolved murders in the Chicago area. Coincidently, it was the same time you were a student at the University of Illinois."_

"_I was at the Springfield campus," Flint argued._

"_And," the state's attorney general countered as he entered the room, "for your sophomore and junior years, you had one class for three of the four semesters at the Chicago campus. Oddly enough, no one died the first semester of your junior year – when you had no classes in Chicago."_

"_If I am some kind of psycho like you believe," Flint blustered, "why did no one die in Springfield?"_

_The AG just shook his head. "And no one died in Santa Barbara, where you lived. You were smart enough to hunt outside of your home turf. We have you Flint. Why don't you confess and save the people of Illinois the time and money."_

"_I'm innocent," Flint snapped. "Wait until my appeal is heard in California. Then you are facing the same lawsuit I'm going to bring for wrongful conviction."_

"_An innocent man in prison?" the assistant warden gasped sarcastically. "I've never heard of such a thing. Well, at least not today."_

_The AG snickered before turning back to Flint. "And your attack on an FBI agent?"_

"_I was there to interview Kate Eppes," Flint maintained. "She came on to me, when I told her she wasn't my type, she went psycho. Framing me for those murders was a win-win for the government. They close a serial killer case and the daughter of the FBI's head honcho doesn't face charges. Hell, they gave the bitch a commendation for beating the crap out of me."_

"_Bet you regret targeting an FBI agent," the AG smirked. "Especially one who is a sixth degree black belt and an expert in Krav Magna. Now, your lawyer will be here tomorrow. Keep maintaining the innocent act and you and I will meet in court. Tell the truth, give three more families the peace of knowing the man who murdered their loved one is behind bars, and no one needs to know how badly Agent Eppes crushed your testicles, do they? Yeah, I read your medical report. At least they can all know that even if you get out of prison, you'll never rape another woman again."_

Glaring into the distance, Flint muttered, "It's all that bitch Eppes fault."

"Which Eppes is that?" a voice asked. Flint looked up and saw another prison sitting down beside him. "I got tossed in here by an Eppes."

"Really?" Flint asked sarcastically. "Well, I doubt it was the same Eppes. Mine was a female FBI agent in LA."

"Huh," the man said. "Mine was a female FBI agent in Chicago. Katherine Eppes." He rolled up his sleeve, pointing to a ragged scar. "Shot me and was given a medal. I had shot her first and got fifteen years added to my sentence."

"What are the odds," Flint mused, "that there are two FBI agents named Katherine Eppes?"

"Slim to none, I would say," his companion agreed. "By the way – Jackson Mitchell."

"What are you in for?" Flint asked as Mitchell stretched out, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"I am accused of treason," Mitchell said companionably as he sipped his coffee.

"Treason?" Flint said in disgust, ready to move away.

"Come now," Mitchell said in a light voice. "It's not like I harmed a child. Really, I disagree with the charge. I just tried to sell software that I helped design. But Jeff Tracy is a big man with important connections. He doesn't like people who try and cost him money."

"But if you designed the software while working for Tracy, he owned it," Flint countered.

"Now you sound like Agent Eppes and the US Attorney," Mitchell snapped. "I did it. It was my work. But Tracy felt putting it on the open market was too risky and insisted it go straight to the government. All I was doing was trying to make some money by leveling the playing field."

"Men like Jeff Tracy," Mitchell continued, "think they are better than others. Katherine Eppes is a lot like Tracy. Cocky, too big for her britches, not afraid to trample others so that they come out on top."

"Eppes is probably the one who had them look at open cases for while I was at college," Flint mused.

"I have plans," Mitchell confided. "Plans that will assure I am out of here sooner rather than later."

"So why tell me?"

Mitchell smiled. "Unlike most of our compatriots, you have access to money. I know your grandmother goes to the media on a regular basis, assuring them you are innocent. Additionally, I know she refuses to disown you. You'll get money if you need to."

"My grandmother is no Rockefeller" Flint dismissed.

"No," Mitchell agreed. "But if we get the money to get to New York, Jeff Tracy is there. And his family – Jeff Tracy will do anything for his family. He has five sons and one recently married. Another is engaged. Rumor has it he loves both of the women as if they were the children born to him rather than just women his sons sleep with. Get out – I got that covered. Able to get to New York – you have that. Together, we get to Tracy and redistribute the wealth. After that, we go our separate, well-funded, ways."

"How do you know I won't just go to the man?" Flint snapped.

"Don't do street – you can't pull it off," Mitchell snapped back. "And you won't go to anyone. If you do, you can be sure that if California doesn't stick a needle in your arm, Illinois will."

"Illinois doesn't have the death penalty," Flint gloated. "They abolished it in 2010."

"Which is why you didn't fight extradition," Mitchell nodded, understanding. "If you are convicted here first, your lawyer can argue that you belong here, where your earliest crimes occurred."

"I'm innocent," Flint snapped.

"No you're not," Mitchell said as he stood. "I'm not stupid. You are guilty as hell. And, if you go by the letter of the law, laws that favor fat-cats like Jeff Tracy, so am I. So together we can get out of here and get back to our lives. And maybe – just maybe – get a bit of justice for ourselves."

Flint sat quietly when Mitchell had left; looking at the cooling cup of coffee Mitchell had left behind. He picked up the magazine the man must have also left and opened it up to a small human interest article.

In the picture was Jeff Tracy, surrounded by his sons and several women, was embracing a slender blonde teenage boy. The boy's face was obscured by Tracy but the caption underneath revealed his identity. _Billionaire Jeff Tracy embraces his youngest son, Alan, after the boy helped his team, the Wharton Warriors, win the State High School Boys Track Meet. _

The article below detailed how the teenager had suffered several attacks in the past year, having been the victim in a hit and run as well as a poisoning by a "disgruntled" Tracy Enterprises employee. Flint recalled the case, apparently the psycho bitch was obsessed with the family. She seemed to feel that by hurting the youngest son, she would hurt the entire Tracy Family.

Flint watched the way the entire family surrounded the embracing pair, happy, doting, smiles on their faces. The woman may have been a psycho, but even a mad woman can be accurate. He glanced at the article, picking out the members of the family.

_Gordon Tracy _– he won some sports thing a few years back didn't he? _Virgil Tracy – _nothing to noticeable there but the leggy redhead who was curled into him certainly got his attention. _Sarah Woodbury. _The tiny, ethereal blonde leaning into the embrace of a smiling blonde man also made him sit up and take notice. _John and Emily Tracy. _Well, the Tracy boys definitely knew how to pick the hot ones.

Off to the side was a younger version of Jeff Tracy, identified as the oldest son, Scott, who was watching with a combination of indulgence and constant vigilance of a warrior. But in the end, it was a woman, with jet black hair and sunglasses obscuring her face, which drew his attention, even if the article listed her as "Scott Tracy's unknown companion".

"Katherine Eppes," Flint muttered. "My, my – we are getting caught up in some very high end circles, aren't we?"

Devon Flint was no fool. He knew why Jackson Mitchell had approached him. Both of them had been screwed over by "Special Agent Katherine Eppes". And now, she was somehow linked to the Tracy Family. Well, if they were fools enough to let that bitch into their lives, they deserved everything they got.

Devon Flint was no fool but the Tracy Family were if they thought there was no such thing as justice.

He was going to get his.

* * *

><p>Scott Tracy quietly reentered the house his family had rented for the weekend. Alan's actual birthday was today and he knew that his father had planned for them to all gather at a local restaurant where Wharton's was making sure that any fellow students that Alan wanted to help him celebrate his sixteenth birthday would be there.<p>

"You are either up very late or up very early," Alan cheerfully said as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

"And," Tin-Tin laughingly added, "since Alan and I watched the sun rise and your car wasn't in yet..."

Scott groaned. "Does Dad know?"

"Well," Alan grinned at his girlfriend before turning back to his brother. "I suppose I could say that I'm not sure. See, we were supposed to be asleep. But it was kinda hard when Gordon is being shushed in the hallway by Emily and Sarah for singing "Scotty's getting laid" to the tune of "Janie's Got a Gun"."

Slowly banging his head against the wall, Scott groaned once more. "Dad is gonna be -"

"Stop it right there," Alan said forcefully. "Kate is really awesome. And Dad wants you to be happy. We all do. I know – we all know – how much you have sacrificed for the family. I think Kate is perfect for you."

Walking over to Scott, Alan hugged his oldest brother. "I love you, Scotty. And I want you to be happy. Does Kate make you happy?"

"Yeah, Sprout," Scott said as he returned the hug. "She makes me very happy. It's like a part of me was missing and I didn't even know it until I met Kate."

"Which sounds great," Jeff said as he came down the stairs. "MMM. Coffee all made, Alan?" When Alan nodded and moved back into the kitchen, Tin-Tin following him as they continued to make breakfast.

Jeff sighed. "How did I raise a morning person? The rest of you aren't."

"The Kyranos," Scott chuckled. "They had too big an influence on the kid."

Nodding, Jeff grabbed the coffee pot and quickly poured a cup. Drinking it half down, he sighed in relief. "Maybe I can get a second cup while Emily is still asleep. As for you, young man…"

Jeff chuckled at the abashed look on his first born's face.

"Scott, Alan is right. You have sacrificed so much for this family. We want you to be happy and I think Kate will make you happy."

"How do you know Kate is the one for me?" Scott asked, trying to keep his voice light but his father answered honestly.

"Because you look at her the same way I looked at your mother. She may have been gone for more than a decade, but I never forgot the way I felt with her. And I want each of you boys to be as happy as I was with your mother."

Alan smiled at Tin-Tin from where he worked on a potato casserole. Things were finally coming together for the Tracys. He had a good relationship with his family, his brothers all had someone wonderful in their lives and he was even going to be an uncle in a few months. What could possibly wrong now?

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - OOOH. Bad question for Alan to ask.**_

_**Alan - Sigh. How badly am I gonna get hurt in this story?**_

_**CC - Which time?**_

_**Gordon - Just remember, Sprout - no death fics.**_

_**CC - Well, no Tracys at least.**_

_**Alan (looks suspicious) So?**_

_**CC - Trust me, Alan - you don't want to know.**_

_**Kate - By the way - did you have to have Gordy singing that? I mean, "Scotty's Getting Laid"? Really?**_

_**CC - Sammygirl1963 loved it.**_

_**Kate - Yeah, well you tell her Scott is now officially off the market, got it?**_

_**CC - Um, Kate - Can you put your gun away while we are talking?**_

_**Kate (glares) No.**_

_**CC - Fine, I'll bring out the big guns. I have just one word for you Kate - Triplets.**_

_**Kate (pales) - Um, that's fine. See you later. (Runs off)**_

_**CC - Ok, boys - here's some coconut cookies and tea.**_

_**Alan - Cookies?**_

_**CC (whispers) - If his mouth is full, Gordon can't sing.**_

_**Alan (holds out the plate of cookies) Here you go, Gordon - cookies.**_

_**CC - Laters, folks!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Six Degress of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**Disclaimer - Don't own the Thunderbirds or Numb3rs. 'Nuff said. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

_Three weeks later_

"Sure, sure, Morgandorfer," Kate grinned as she typed up her notes. Securing the phone between her shoulder and her ear, she kept typing as she listened to her friend.

"Can't get used to being back in the saddle, can you?" Kate laughed. "You could always put away the shield and do full-time diaper duty." Snickering at the other agent's response, Kate shook her head.

"Well, let me know how it turns out. Yes, I am sure on my info. You grab the bad guy and make sure while you are patting yourself on the back, you remember that this take down was brought to you by the genius of Kate Eppes."

Hanging up the phone, she sent off another report to an agent in Miami. Sighing, Kate glared at the pile of files and cds on the desk.

"Man may work from sun to sun but a woman's work is never done," Polly Garcia cheerfully said as she piled six more cds on Kate's desk. When the pile began to topple, the technical analyst quickly righted the mess.

"You, my dear, are a victim of your own success," the bleach blonde laughed. "You are making Mahoney look way too good."

Kate sighed. Her boss had been in a few minutes earlier, saying much the same thing to her. Kate's work since coming to this division of the Fugitive Task Force had resulted in over fifty cases being closed. Since the average agent was likely to close perhaps two dozen cases in a year, closing more than twice than that in the five months since moving to Boston was considered very impressive.

"Senior Supervisory Special Agent Mahoney is pleased with our progress," Kate said evenly. "It is a team effort. I gather the data, the Hardy Boys grab the creeps."

Michael Franklin and Oscar Josephson – nicknamed "Frank and Joe Hardy" by Kate, much to their annoyance – were the two agents Kate most frequently used to go after the fugitives she was able to track down. Glancing at the two men, both around her older brothers' ages, Kate gave a small grin as the two bickered while completing their paperwork.

"They never used to do their own paperwork," Polly said, following Kate's gaze.

"No," Kate agreed. "They used to get my predecessor to do their paperwork. It seems they believe that since I sit at a desk rather than work in the field, I shouldn't have minded either."

"What changed their minds?" Polly asked.

"They saw me shoot," Kate said wryly.

"Scaring the other kids on the playground, are we, Kate?"

Kate and Polly both turned to the door, Kate smiling while Polly became flustered.

"Oh, um, uh, Director Eppes," Polly stuttered. After all, how often did you meet the big boss?

"Yes, Director Eppes?" Kate asked as she leaned against her desk. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Don Eppes leaned in the doorway, loosening his tie as he smiled at his daughter. "I was testifying at a Homeland Security Meeting in New York and decided to drive up to Boston for lunch."

"Because they don't have clam chowder in New York?" Kate questioned.

"Nothing decent," Polly muttered as she slipped out of the office.

"Let me guess," Don said wryly. "A native Bostonian?"

Kate shook her head. "No, but she is from Andover – close enough, I suppose."

"Hey Eppes," Mahoney started as he tried to push past Don. "Excuse me, I -" Kate's boss froze as he looked in dismay at the FBI Director.

"I hope you don't mind me stealing away one of your people," Don said with authority. "But I thought I would take Agent Eppes to lunch."

"Of course not, Director," Brian Mahoney said quickly.

"Is this my boss asking or my father?" Kate asked.

"If I say your boss?" Don questioned.

"Then I would respectfully decline, saying I have too much work to do."

Don frowned even while Mahoney sputtered. "And if it is your father?" Don asked.

Kate grinned. "Since Mom said to expect you and make sure you have your wallet before you leave, I'll say sure."

"One time," Don muttered. "One time I forget my wallet and no one in the family ever lets me forget it."

Before anyone could say anything, Franklin stuck his head in. "Hey, Eppsie – you got a delivery here."

"Eppsie?" Don asked coolly.

Franklin looked over and gulped loudly. "Um, there's a delivery for Agent Eppes…and I gotta go." The agent practically tripped over his own feet trying to get away, grabbing his jacket and his partner in a swift motion.

"Kate," Polly cooed from the bullpen. "Something else from lover boy."

Kate blushed slightly as her father stared at her when she picked up a long white floral box. Slipping off the ribbon, she opened the box, breathing in deeply as a dozen long stemmed white roses.

Picking up the card, Don read aloud. "_K – white roses mean "I am worthy of you." I hope that I am. – S_" Glancing up at his daughter, Don frowned. "And what is this?"

"Last time I checked, they were roses," Kate said cheerfully as she slipped the blossoms into the vase Polly had retrieved.

"Katherine Louise Eppes," Don said firmly, "you know what I mean."

"Flowers?" Josephson said as he popped back into the room, grabbing the file with the warrant he needed. "I was hoping for another delivery from Carlo's Bakery. Those canolies were to die for."

When the other agent left, Don turned back to his daughter. "Carlo's Bakery? Where in Boston is that?"

"Um, no, not in Boston." Kate muttered. "The one in Hoboken."

"_That_ Carlo's," Don said in shock. "Long-stemmed roses? Desserts from a nationally famous bakery? Who is this guy?"

Kate smiled. "Let's go to lunch. If you are a good boy, maybe I'll fill you in."

"Does your mother know about this?" Don asked as they left the room.

"Of course," Kate said calmly as she picked up her purse and left the room.

"Of course," Don muttered. "Of course. _Swing up to Boston, honey, while you are so close. Kate would love to see you. _Not like there was anything you think I should know about. It's just some guy, right?" But as Don thought of how Kate's eyes had lit up as she had gently touched the petals of the roses, he knew…

_He was losing his little princess…_

* * *

><p>Alan Tracy was curled up underneath his favorite tree, glancing up occasionally from his book to watch the Seniors running around. The sophomore-nearly-junior chuckled when Kensley "Kip" Carrington slipped and fell after trying to tackle his roommate.<p>

"Gonna miss us, Kid?"

Looking up, Alan smiled at the sight of his friend, Tomo "Tommy" Wattame. "Heya, Tommy – waz up?"

"Kid," Tomo sighed as he sat down next to Alan. "You can't do street."

"So you have been telling me for years," Alan laughed. "You excited to be heading to Yale in the fall?"

Tomo nodded as he glanced over to where some delivery people were unloading supplies for the graduation ceremony. If it was good weather, it would be held in the quad and the forecast for the next three days were sunshine and pleasant temps.

"Yeah," Tomo said with a grin before the smile faded. "Damn, but I wish my Dad was going to be here. He always said how much he looked forward to this day."

Alan put a concerned hand on his friend's arm. "I know. There have been so many times I wished my mom could be here. But I firmly believe that those who love us, never really leave us. So your dad and your grandfather will be there. I know it."

Ruffling Alan's hair, Tomo nodded. "Yeah, guess you're right, blondie. Hey, you going to stay for the ceremony? I notice a distinct lack of other underclassmen around."

"Nope," Alan said. "The Hackenbackers took my stuff back to the island but my ride should be along shortly."

Before Tomo could say anything, Headmaster Bean approached the pair. "Mr. Wattame," he called out. "I need my valedictorian."

"Duty calls," Tomo grinned as he stood up. "Hey, I may be only one state over, but I expect tons of e-mails."

"And I expect a few dozen visits," Alan snorted before returning to his book.

Alan remained comfortably seated, reading his book – in between acknowledging greetings from the soon to be Wharton graduates – but failing to notice the increasing silence. After about ten minutes, no one else was around but Alan.

A few minutes after that, Alan paused when a shadow crossed his pages. He looked up to see a figure looming over him…

* * *

><p>Don waited until the waiter left before leaning forward. "Alright, Katie – who is this guy?"<p>

"Dad," Kate warned. "I don't want you investigating him."

Looking offended, Don scoffed. "Would I do that?"

"You have before," Kate grumbled.

"Yes," Don conceded. "But I figure you can do it yourself now."

Kate laughed. "Well, in this case I don't have to."

Don was intrigued. "So – how did you meet him? What does he do for a living? Is he divorced, any kids, any family? Hell, does he have a dog?"

Ticking off on her fingers, Kate answered. "I met him giving a victim's family information, he works for his father, never been married, no children although he did help his widowed father raise four younger brothers and no – no pets."

"OK," Don responded once the litany had sunk in. "Since it seems relevant, what does his father do? And is he still responsible for his younger brothers?"

Laughing again, Kate flicked a piece of roll at her father. "For the most part, Scott's brothers are adults now. And his father? Well, he builds things, I suppose is the best description."

"What? Like a contractor?"

Swallowing a bite of the roll, Kate shook her head. "No – like planes, boats, computers." Seeing his confusion, Kate grinned. "Dad – he's Scott Tracy, Jeff Tracy's oldest son."

"Katie," Don looked disapproving.

"What Dad?" Kate snapped, instantly defensive. "Scott is a great guy. He works hard and takes care of his family. I talk to him everyday." Softening, Kate took her father's right hand in both of hers.

"Dad, you should see him with his family. Scott adores his youngest brother, Alan – he practically raised the kid. And he works hard. In fact, he led the design team for the new Air Force One."

"But the roses, Katie," Don protested. "And expensive gifts?"

Kate laughed once more. "Dad, it's not like he's draping me in diamonds. He sent flowers and canolies. OK," she admitted. "He's sent more than one delivery of flowers. And he may have also sent some Godiva chocolates. Each delivery came after I had had a hard day. Scott just wants to make me happy." Sighing lightly, she squeezed her father's hand.

"But he does that by just being him."

Don tilted his head even as he wove his fingers through his daughter's. "Do you love him, Katie Bear?"

Smiling, Kate nodded. "I think I do, Dad. I think I do."

* * *

><p>Alan looked up and grinned. "Scott," he cried excitedly as he jumped to his feet and flung his arms around his oldest brother.<p>

"Hey, Sprout," Scott said as he hugged the teenager. "You ready to fly?"

"You betcha!" Alan said enthusiastically. "Does that mean I get to fly?"

"Alan," Scott admonished as he picked up Alan's book and walked, his arm around the boy's shoulders, towards his rental car. "You barely have your driver's license. You don't have your pilot's license."

Alan looked a little hurt. "Scott – I got my pilot's license when I was fourteen."

Scott froze before glancing down at his brother. Pressing his lips on top of the boy's head – he wouldn't be able to do that when they were both standing much longer – he murmured, "Sorry, Sprout. How much of your life did we miss? How much growing up did you have to do on your own?"

Alan smiled. "I was never alone Scott. I had the Kyranos and the Hackenbackers. And Parker has always been the bomb."

"_But they're not your family, Allie," _Scott thought sadly as he walked down the sidewalk with Alan. _"We are. How can you forgive us so easily?"_

"Because I love you guys." Scott stopped dead when Alan said that only for the teenager's smile to grow.

"If you don't want an answer, don't speak out loud, Scotty. And I was acting like kinda a jerk at the time."

"No," Scott said firmly. "You were acting like a scared, hurt, kid. Once you knew you were loved and needed by us, you became the amazing kid we always knew you could be. I'm very proud of you, Alan Tracy."

"Likewise, Scott Tracy," Alan beamed before raising an eyebrow in a John-like motion. "So, can you make it up to me by letting me drive us to Logan Airport?"

Scott chuckled, "You look like John but you manipulate like Gordon."

"I've learned from the best," Alan grinned.

Scott tossed his keys at Alan. "You can drive us to Boston. But we aren't heading straight to the airport. I have a detour."

"Where?" Alan asked only for Scott to slip into the passenger's seat, grinning back. "Come on, Scott where? If I'm driving, I need to know."

Scott just chuckled and admonished Alan to buckle his seat belt. "You'll see, Sprout. You'll see."

"Don't call me Sprout."

* * *

><p>Jackson Mitchell looked over at Devon Flint in the chow hall, giving the man a brief nod before returning to his meal. Cafeteria food was never pleasant and while it was palatable and nutritious, it was not anything he would have chosen before. Oh, what he would give to sit down in an inviting steak house, eating a Porter House, medium rare, the juices blending with a hot baked potato smothered in butter and sour cream…<p>

Instead of tuna casserole.

Forcing himself to eat the unappetizing meal, Mitchell tried to keep calm and draw no attention to himself. In the months he had been in Joliet, he had made every effort to be as unnoticeable as possible. Mitchell was now at a point that the guards and prisoners alike pretty much ignored him.

They would learn better soon…

Flint had to viciously suppress a grin at Mitchell's small nod. He knew that meant that the escape plan was moving forward. This would be their last day at Joliet. At 0200, the pair would be ensconced in two shipping containers and slipped out the delivery gate.

By the time they should be getting removed from their cells at 0600, they would be well out of state and on their way to New York.

He couldn't wait…

* * *

><p>"C'mon, Kate," Don laughed as they reentered the small office located in the rear of the Boston FBI. The Fugitive Task Force had always operated quietly, believing that they got more done with discretion than flair.<p>

"Is this my boss asking or my father?" Kate teased.

"And if I say your boss?"

Kate pursed her lips. "I would say that I am doing good work here and one of these days, maybe I can get back in the field."

"Well," Don said firmly, "your boss would say you are doing a lot of good work and this unit's productivity has tripled due to it. Not to mention the other offices you have consulted for. Now," he tapped her nose with his finger, much as he had done since she was a baby. "What about as your father?"

"I would say I love you, Dad," Kate said with equal firmness. "But I am not taking another position just so you or one of your friends can keep an eye on me. I'm a big girl and I think I have proven I can take care of myself."

Don nodded, knowing he wasn't going to win this one.

"Hey Eppes," Mahoney said as he reentered the room, straightening a bit when he saw Don. "And Director. How was lunch?"

"Lunch was fine," Kate said warmly. "Am I still all clear to leave?"

"You have the weekend off?" Don asked, glancing at both his daughter and Agent Mahoney.

"Yes," Kate smiled.

"So," Don said, "did you want to come down to DC? Your mother and I have to go to some shindig at the White House this weekend, but I can get you on the guest list with one call."

"Sorry, Dad," Kate sighed. "Other plans."

"I don't know," Scott said as he came into the office. "Dinner at the White House sounds a lot fancier than a BBQ for my Dad's birthday."

"Well," Alan said with a grin, "that is a BBQ on a tropical island, flown in on a private jet."

"There is that," Scott's grin matched Alan's as he gave Kate a quick kiss before holding out his hand to Don.

"Mr. Eppes, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Kate has told me so much about you."

"Yes, well," Don glared at the younger man as he tried – and failed – to crush Scott's hand. He let go of the hand, wincing slightly. He wasn't that young anymore and Scott Tracy had a very firm grip. "Kate has mentioned you. Well, as of today she has."

"What can I say," Kate shrugged. "You didn't ask." Smiling, she turned to Alan and gave him a slight hug, "So – all done with school for the year?"

"Yes," Alan grinned back. "I have my summer course work. Oh," Alan said excitedly. "My mathematical theories course included references by your uncle. Hey," Alan turned to Don, his blue eyes wide with wonder.

"That would make you Charlie Eppes' brother! That is so cool! I read all about some of the cases he worked with you," Alan rambled with excitement as he held out the book he had been reading.

Don picked up the book with a grin. _Everything is Math – Mathematical Theories in Real-World Application: FBI Cases. _

"You know," Don said in a confidential tone, "Charlie practically had a panic attack before this came out. He had gotten the ok from the brass to explain the cases we were working on for each math theory. But," Don nudged Alan, "he had forgotten to tell me."

"But this is one of a series of five books," Alan protested. "I have all five – well, we only needed one for class but I couldn't choose which one. So John and Emily just got me all five. But of course the other five are about his other, non-FBI consulting."

"Actually," Don murmured, "Charlie has a sixth one coming out. More FBI cases." Don sighed. "We really had a great case clearance rate thanks to Charlie. There are times I really miss that. Nothing like working with your little brother to get close to him."

"Or living two houses down to keep that feeling," Kate argued lightly which made her father nod and smile.

Scott and Alan shared small smiles themselves, knowing that working for International Rescue and living on the Island together did help in keeping the Tracy Brothers close.

Sighing again, Don looked at Alan and smiled. "You must be Alan. Katie was talking about you almost as much as she did about Scott."

"What can I say, Dad," Kate laughed as she gave Alan a one-armed hug. "He's a great kid, aren't you, Kiddo?"

Alan blushed as the adults all laughed.

Don nodded in mild approval. "Alan – great name."

"Thanks," Alan said wryly. "I've had it all my life."

Kate squeezed his shoulders as she explained softly. "It was my grandfather's name."

"Oh," responded Alan in embarrassment.

Scott lightly punched Alan's arm as he teased, "So aren't you glad Dad didn't have his way with your name?"

Alan frowned at the same time as Don, although the older man's was a confused one. "I thought Katie said you were all named for Mercury Seven astronauts?"

"Yes," Scott agreed, ticking off the names on his fingers. "Scott Carpenter, John Glenn, Virgil Grissom, Gordon Cooper, Alan Shepard and -" Scott paused dramatically while Alan's frown deepened. "Walter Schirra."

"Yeah, well," Alan grumbled. "I'm not named Walter. I'm sure it's a perfectly good name but all I can think of is that grumpy old man puppet."

The adults all chuckled before Kate excused herself for a moment. Don cheerfully answered questions that Alan had about some of the cases. All the ones listed in the book had long since been declassified, but not all the details of the cases – since not relevant to the math theory – were included in the book.

Kate came back into the room, an overnight bag over her shoulder and a brightly colored gift bag in her hand. Scott smiled at her as he took the bag from her before holding out his hand to Don.

"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Eppes," Scott said. "But if we are going to make our take-off time, we need to get going."

"And have you mentioned this to your mother, Katherine?" Don murmured.

"That I am going to Tracy Island and staying with Scott's brother and his wife?" Kate grinned. "Yes – although she would have been fine with me staying with Scott. But his father wouldn't approve, especially with Alan there. And Dad?" Kate said wryly. "Does certain days at your apartment and certain days at Mom's apartment mean anything to you? Oh, yeah," she grinned. "Mom told me."

Don grumbled but walked the trio out and watched as they got into Scott's rental car. Kate smiled and waved at her father, who was pleased to see how easily she fit in with both brothers, a good thing if his daughter was serious about her relationship with Scott Tracy.

_He wasn't the only one losing his princess. It looked like his brothers had some competition as well…_

* * *

><p>Jeff "JP" Horne sat nervously in the small van, casting glances at the young man next to him. JP had met this guy – KW (he didn't know his full name) – when he had been there the night JP had followed his new friends from college to a party in Chicago, where he had joined a poker game. JP had always been pretty good and thought he could make some quick cash to help his sister, Brittany.<p>

_Brittany had been taken care of JP for several years since their parents' sudden death. But money was tight and she had put off furthering her own education which would help her to get a better job to make sure JP was taken care of as she continued to work a dead end job at a local K-Mart. _

_So when JP found himself suddenly 2K in the whole, the eighteen year old chemistry student was panicking before a guy his age stepped forward and paid off his IOUs. Before JP knew it the other kid had him outside and was snarling in his face._

"_Listen, Horne – you owe me 2 grand. I can either go to your big sister who sure can't afford this, or you can work for me for a few months. We'll consider the two grand a hiring bonus. And if you stay until the job is done, you'll get fifty thousand at the end of the summer. Plenty of money for next year – and maybe the next."_

"_What do you want me to do?" JP asked shakily._

_KW grinned. "Don't ask questions, do what you are told and keep your mouth shut. Do that, we'll both be happy."_

So now JP sat in the parking lot for a warehouse at half past two in the morning. And even though summer heat had come early to Illinois, JP felt cold and wondered if he would ever be warm again.

A delivery van pulled up to the warehouse and a older Hispanic man climbed out. KW got out and walked over to the van. The two men walked to the back of the van and KW nodded in satisfaction when the doors opened. The delivery van driver held out his hand as if in payment only to suddenly whip both hands up defensively.

JP was having trouble seeing what happened but a suddenly loud noise, like a car backfiring made him jump. The eighteen year old was considering driving away when he was shocked to stillness by two men jumping out of the back of the van before they followed KW back to the vehicle, climbing in and addressing JP.

"Is this our driver?" Devon Flint asked as he eyed JP in a way that made the young man's skin crawl.

"Yes," KW said coldly as he glared at the older man.

Jackson Mitchell also glared at Flint. "We need the kid. You'll leave him alone." His eyes softened as he smiled at KW.

"Thanks, dude. I owe you."

KW returned the smile. "No, you don't. But remember – keep my name out of this. Horne here is too much of a newbie and if you ask me, Flint would sell out his mother to save himself."

"If you knew my mother, so would you," Flint muttered.

KW clasped Mitchell's hand before slipping out of the vehicle. "I've set up a place for you in New York. Even got JP here a summer job at the parking garage for the Towers. It should give you the opening you need, for whatever you need to do."

JP watched as the other young man walk into the shadows. He could hear another car start up and drive away, the lights not going on until it was already almost out of sight.

"Come on, kid," Mitchell said gruffly. "Let's get going. The authorities are going to realize we are gone soon and you don't want to be anywhere near here."

It was only then that JP noticed that the men were wearing prison jump suits. _"Oh, God," _he prayed silently. _"What am I caught up in?" _But he said nothing as he drove out of the parking lot.

Soon, only the rapidly cooling body next to the delivery van was the only sign that anyone had been there since the warehouse had been closed the month before. A commercial real estate agent would be the first to find the body early Monday. But by then, all of those involved would be long gone…

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - See what so many nice reviews do for me? If I get a lot again, I could have another chapter up by Wednesday. (hint-hint)**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Do know much about...deep space particle theory (Is that even a real thing or just something Larry said on Numb3rs?). History, however, I rocked at. Seriously, won awards and everything. Of course, there was less history then. And it was non-politically corrected history. My daughter's teachers are gonna be frustrated by me. I'm, gasp, a conservative. **_

_**Oh - and I don't own Thunderbirds. It's a short chapter but...stuff is happening.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

Kate sat in what had to be the most comfortable chair she had ever sat in and could almost forget that she was in an airplane. As the sleek jet zoomed westward, taking her to Tracy Island, Kate tried to focus on the cases she was reviewing rather than setting her mind to drift. In the three weeks since she had met Scott Tracy, he had managed to get to Boston one more time after the weekend of his brother's birthday. Sighing, Kate wryly guessed there would be little, um, "personal" time for them once they got to the Island.

"That was a deep sigh," Scott said in a light tone as he handed her a cup of tea.

Taking the hot beverage with a smile of thanks, Kate almost dropped it as she gasped, "Scott – who's flying the plane?"

Scott shrugged and sat down next to her. "That would be Alan." When Kate looked to protest, he explained, "Kid has had his pilot's license for two years now, Kate. He'll be fine. I was only sitting next to him as a precaution. Logan is a pretty busy airport and he had never flown out of such a congested flight path before."

Kate huffed. "Don't ever call my family a bunch of over achievers again. None of us have pilot's licenses. And definitely not at fourteen."

"Nope," Scott laughed. "But you had college students at that age."

Shrugging, Kate said nothing as she sipped her tea. Scott was right on the money for that one.

Picking up her hand, Scott traced over it lightly. "So – you said you had some vacation next month. It wouldn't happen to be around the 18th, would it?"

Frowning, Kate nodded. "As a matter of fact, it is that week. Why?"

"Any plans?"

"Well," Kate mused, "since I wasn't even sure until two days ago I would get it, no. I'll probably just head to LA and visit."

"Not DC to see your folks?" Scott asked.

Chuckling, Kate shook her head. "No, as you saw today, my parents have no problem with zipping up I-95 and checking in on me. Besides, a week in DC sounds good in theory, but I don't play politics well. Dad only does because Mom taught him to. According to Uncle Charlie, he never used to be one to mince his words."

Scott joined Kate in her amusement before asking, "Well, what would you think of going to Kansas?"

Frowning again, Kate looked puzzled. "What the heck is in Kansas?"

Scott grinned. "Not much, usually. But on July 18th, one of my oldest friends in getting married and I will need a date, if only to get out of the matchmaking eyes of the bride's mother."

Kate nodded. "OK, sounds good by me. Are you in the wedding party?"

Now Scott laughed out loud. "OK, technically, I will be the male attendant, and the groom's sister the female attendant. But Amelia is standing up for her brother, Billy, and I will be standing up for Jean. How confusing is that?"

Chuckling, Kate nodded again. "Very. So who is Jean – and old girlfriend?"

Scott smiled. "No, but she did give me my first kiss from a non-family member. And then proceeded to threaten to belt me if I ever told anyone she had done so. Jeannie was feeling a bit, well, feisty."

"Any particular reason?" Kate laughed, trying to picture a young Scott getting kissed and threatened all in one stroke.

Sobering, Scott nodded. "Someone had just tried to abduct Alan. He was about 18 months old. I managed to hold them off until Mom came back outside. But when they went to get medical help, they tried to use Jeannie as a hostage. She objected," he said wryly. "Jeannie was always good with a baseball bat."

Kate sat up, nearly knocking over her tea. "Wait – Jean Bates, Kansas State? The first female player to ever pitch at the College World Series and who holds the records for most home runs in a series?"

Blinking, Scott nodded which made Kate grin. "Oh, man – of course I am going! My dad would never forgive me! He got annoyed when Bates turned down the offer from the Dodgers to join the Marines. Said they finally would have been a winning team again."

Scott chuckled. "Yes, well, if Jeannie had played professionally, it would have been for Kansas City. She's really close to her mother, even if she denies it. Miss Millie is awesome. You'll love her."

"Miss Millie?" Kate asked. "It sounds like something from an old western."

"So does Miss Millie," Scott says wryly. "But when you have some of her pie…It will be worth it."

Laughing again, Kate shook her head. "I see I will have to work on my cooking. The always say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. But I think you take that to the max."

Scott just kissed her. But – she was right.

* * *

><p>JP Horne drove through the early morning, relieved when they joined the relative anonymity of Interstate 80 traffic, heading East. Jackson Mitchell had politely introduced himself, dismissing the other occupant with <em>"That's Flint. You keep away from him and I will make sure he keeps away from you. Don't ask questions. Just do as you are told."<em>

But JP was no idiot. His heart was breaking at the realization of how devastated his sister, Brittany, would be if she ever discovered he was an accessory after the fact in a jail break. And the only jail close enough to the pick-up location had been Joliet, a federal penitentiary, so these two men were guilty of something pretty serious.

Mitchell stirred next to him as the cell phone KW had given the man in Illinois began to beep. Nodding as he read the message, Mitchell turned to JP.

"Alright, arrangements have been finalized. You'll head into New York City and I'll give you directions. But when we get there, you are the one who will be going in to the management office to sign the lease. It's pre-paid so don't worry about that." Looking out at the fast moving traffic, Mitchell slunk down a bit in the chair, all too conscious of his prison uniform.

"Get off at the next exit," Mitchell said quietly as he looked into the back seat. "There was a sign for a twenty-four hour Wal-Mart." He pulled out an envelope and wrote something on it before turning to Flint. "Flint, what sizes are you?"

Once Flint had answered and Mitchell had written in down, he stuffed the envelope into JP's pocket. "Our sizes and some cash. Just some basic clothes – jeans and t-shirts. Underwear and sneakers issued by the government will do for now. Park in a far corner, away from everyone else. We'll get changed in here."

JP nodded even as he eased onto the off-ramp. He just had to keep his cool and get out of this alive.

* * *

><p>Jeff Tracy looked up through his office window and smiled. Tracy One had called in an approach a few minutes ago, and sure enough, there she was. In that small plane were his oldest and youngest sons, as well as a young woman who may soon enough be a Tracy daughter.<p>

"Hey, Dad," John said from the door, shaking his damp blonde hair. "They're here."

Jeff frowned as he looked at his second son. "You've only been home from Five for an hour. Have you've been swimming already?"

"No," John denied. "I'm not Gordon. I just got out of the shower."

"Why would you need to shower again…" Jeff's voice trailed off as John went beet red. "Never mind. I can remember coming home to your mother well enough."

John grinned for a moment before frowning. "Ugh – Dad, please. As Alan would say, TMI – too much information."

"Well," Jeff said with a laugh as he led his son from the room, "as Virgil would say – I never want to know when my sons are _busy,_OK?"

* * *

><p>Stepping out of the plane and taking Scott's hand, Kate smiled as she breathed in deeply.<p>

"God, Scott," she sighed. "This looks like paradise. How can you ever bear to leave it?"

"With the knowledge that I'll be coming home," Scott said wisely. "Besides, what's paradise without someone to share it with?" Scott asked as his lips brushed against her.

"Ugh, gross. TMI, guys. Innocent child around," Alan said as he climbed down from the plane, opening the hatch to pull out the luggage.

"Innocent child?" Kate whispered to Scott. "I've yet to meet an innocent sixteen year old."

Scott grinned. "Yeah, but he and his girl both have those pretty rings. Not to mention, they are rarely alone. It's good for Dad's blood pressure."

"And yours?" Kate teased, laughing when Scott wryly shrugged and nodded.

"Alan!" Jeff Tracy called out as he ran towards the plane, his arms wide open, but soon filled with his youngest son. The rest of the brothers, as well as Emily and Sarah, soon joined them, all hugging or kissing the teenager as if they had not seen him in months, rather than just three weeks earlier.

"Ah," Scott sighed. "I so am not feeling the love here."

Gordon scoffed. "We saw you two days ago. You're old news."

The family chuckled before Jeff asked, "Did you get those contracts for me to look over?"

Scott picked up his brief case and nodded. "All right here, Dad. But John Bumper looked them over pretty carefully. He said they were "Jeff-proof", which Ann Marie said meant they should be signature ready."

Jeff looked annoyed. He hated it when his employees knew him so well. It was worse because they were probably right. His annoyance changed as Alan hugged him again, whispering "I missed you guys." Smiling at his baby, he brushed back the teen's golden blonde hair and marveled once again at how much Alan looked like Lucy.

"We're not the only ones you missed though, right?" Gordon teased his "favorite" younger brother.

Seeing Tin-Tin slowly coming down the path, Alan grinned. With a quick look at his father, Alan took the quick nod to be a sign of approval and ran off, sweeping the still fifteen year old girl off her feet before placing a chaste kiss on her lips. The pair began to walk up towards the villa, holding hands and quietly talking.

"Who knows," Gordon sighed. "Maybe Alan and Tin will be the next to marry."

"Not yet!"

Kate blinked and started to laugh when she realized that the same phrase had come from every other Tracy – both blood and marriage. Shaking her head, Kate grabbed her bag and began to follow the pair but not before commenting: "Alan and I have got to compare notes on over-protective families. "

* * *

><p>Don Eppes nodded, glad that his wife, Robin, was firmly attached to his side. Over three decades of marriage the pair had worked out a system that if Don was becoming too annoyed with some puffed-up air bag of a politician, Don could zone while Robin would nudge him to get the appropriate answers.<p>

Glancing around the crowded ballroom, Don smiled as he recalled the first time he had been invited to the White House – well, for himself. Don had accompanied his father and Amita when Charlie had been winning awards, especially for his Cognitive

Dissidence Theory, which had revolutionized everything from math to psychology. Even some criminal justice techniques were adapted using his kid brother's work.

As Don stifled a sigh when instead of winding down – as Don had hoped the man was – the man (a congressman or a senator?) seemed to get a second wind and launched into a new argument of ways the FBI should be trimming their budget. Finally, Don gave into his sigh and responded firmly.

"With all due respect, the bad guys often have better technology and other resources than my agents. The FBI and other law enforcement agencies are trying desperately to fight against criminals and terrorists. It's the safety of you and your constituents that would be put at risk. My agents have already learned to do more with less, utilizing their resources better than most government agencies. If you think the life of one FBI agent is worth more than whatever politically correct agency you think deserves the money more than my people, I assure you, I will fight you every step of the way."

The man turned an interesting shade of puce, as much for Don's put down as the realization that many of the surrounding guests were nodding in approval at the FBI director's words. Before he could say anything, a White House employee stepped forward.

"Director Eppes? There is a phone call for you. Mid-West Assistant Director Sinclair."

Don nodded and followed the worker to a small room. As the White House employee discreetly backed out and shut the door, Don picked up the phone and pressed the blinking light.

"David," Don said cheerfully. "Please say I have a reason to give the President to slip out of here."

"_You may at that, Don," _David Sinclair, once Don's second-in-command in LA and now in charge of the Mid-West division of the FBI, said.

"_Two prisoners escaped from Joliet. As best as we can tell, they were able to sneak out in a delivery truck in the middle of the night. We aren't sure how they avoided bed-check or got there, but the delivery truck weighed as much coming in as going out. And that truck wasn't doing any kind of pick-up, so it should have been over three hundred pounds less when leaving. The driver and the truck are still missing."_

"OK," Don said firmly, his earlier cheer gone. "How big a threat are we looking at with these guys? Joliet doesn't house any terrorists, does it?"

"_No," _David said. _"One guy is a serial rapist-murderer and the other was convicted of computer crimes and espionage."_

"Computer crimes and…Wait," Don sharply answered. "Is Jackson Mitchell one of the escapees?"

David sighed on the other end, not surprised that Don so quickly connected the man who had shot Don's daughter by a vague description. _"Yes, it is. And this is where it gets worse. The other one was Devon Flint."_

"Flint?" Don asked in surprise. "Why isn't he is California?"

"_I'm e-mailing you the file, but it seems Kate suggested checking into crimes that occurred where he used to live. Since she was with the Chicago Bureau at the time, she gave his DNA profile to the cold case division. They found three matches from when Flint was a student."_

Recalling Kate's firm opinion that the escalation had seemed extreme, Don nodded, even as he forced down his fears. Two men, both who had tried to harm his little girl, were out of the prison that should have kept her safe from them. And until they were recaptured, Kate would continue to be at risk.

"Thanks for the head's up, David," Don said. "I'm calling Lissa in New York. Kate is about to work from her laptop a lot more."

"_Are you sending her back to LA? Will she live with her brothers or Charlie? Or is she going to a safe house?"_

"Can you see Kate agreeing to a safe house?" Don sighed. "Besides, I have an idea of where would be even safer." Thinking for a moment, he frowned. "Actually, David – can you call Lissa and tell her that one of her East Coast agents will be doing remote work? I have to get a phone number."

Hanging up the phone, Don called another number. "Lynch? I need you to work your geek magic. Yeah, I need a cell phone number. Jeff Tracy's. Yes – that Jeff Tracy. And I need it five minutes ago, so…" Don's eyes went wide as he pulled out his smart phone and entered a number to memory.

"Lynch, you are as good at those computers as your parents were. Yes,"Don chuckled, "I'll make sure that gets into your performance review."

Sucking in a deep breath, Don hesitated before resolutely dialing a number. How do you ask a billionaire if he would mind baby-sitting your daughter?

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - Ah, everyone is having fun, hanging out, partying...**_

_**Alan - Waiting for the other shoe to drop.**_

_**CC - Alan! How you doing? Your having fun, flying right?**_

_**Alan - Yeah, and when does my whumpage begin?**_

_**Scott - Better question - when does it end?**_

_**CC - Um, by the end of the story?**_

_**Alan - Yes, but you finish one and write another!**_

_**CC - Pshaw. I'm easy on you. You live, have no permanant disabilities - so far - and the end is - so far - always a happy one!**_

_**Scott (glares) - So what's with the "so far"s?**_

_**CC (smiling angelically) - Writer's privledge.**_

_**Scott - Lady, you are...**_

_**CC - Thinking of triplets for you and Kate? Yes, yes I am.**_

_**Scott (pales) - Um, I - I gotta go. (runs off)**_

_**Alan - You wouldn't really give them triplets, would you?**_

_**CC - Probably not. Kate is enough of a bitch carrying one kid.**_

_**Alan - You shouldn't say that. **_

_**CC - Why not? I was. Let's face it, the guy gets the fun, the woman get morning sickness, weight gain, swollen ankles, and hours of trying to push something the size of a watermelon out of an exit the size of a lemon.**_

_**Alan (pales) - Oh, wow. You think I can talk Tin-Tin into a life time of abstaining?**_

_**CC - Nah. And you will love being a Daddy. Once you are MUCH older than my daughter. So you're safe for now.**_

_**Alan (little more color returns) - Oh, that sounds good.**_

_**CC - Cookies? Just baked sugar cookies and cherry lime-aid.**_

_**Alan - Sounds even better.**_

_**CC - OK folks, review and inspire me to get to $!(^%(^) Alan sooner.**_

_**Alan (chokes on the cookie) - You're gonna do what to me?**_

_**CC - Have another cookie, sweetie. You'll need your stregnth. Ta-Ta all!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - Do not own Thunderbirds or, since Don and Charlie are once more in this chapter, Numb3rs. _**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

"Dah-dah-dah-dah…"Gordon hummed off-key as he carried some pasta salad to the table. "Dah-dah-dah-dah." As he set the bowl in the middle of the long table, cheerfully decorated and already groaning with a wide variety of culinary delights, Gordon failed to see Kate coming up behind him, carrying a plate of sliced tomatoes and onions. Kate froze when Gordon began to caterwaul, "Scotty's getting laid. Scotty's getting laid. The world sure is amazed; Scotty's get- ARGH."

As Gordon popped back up from the pool where he had landed when Kate threw him in a impressive and rapid karate throw, the red-head sputtered. "Um, hi, Kate. What's up?"

"Never discuss my sex life again Gordon, unless you want to make sure you don't have one of your own."

When Gordon climbed out of the pool, he stared at John and Emily who had been watching from over at the grill. "Was I just threatened?" he asked in wide-eyed amazement.

"Yes," John said with a grin. "And rather effectively, I believe."

Emily nodded in agreement, smiling serenely as she rubbed her now protruding stomach. John leaned over and kissed her baby bump, beginning to do "baby speak". "Now wasn't that a good job, baby? Did you see what Auntie Kate just did? Oh, yeah, we don't mess with Auntie Kate, do we?"

"She and Scott aren't married," Gordon argued.

"And if you really think they won't be," John dismissed as he turned the steaks. "You are delusional, brother-mine. Emmy?" John rapidly changed the subject. "Where's the shrimp skewers?"

"I thought you got them?" Emily groaned as she began to rise from her comfortable chair. Her ankles really had started to hurt.

"I'll get them, Emmy," John insisted. "Gordon, make yourself useful and watch the steaks for a minute, will you?"

"Emily could have done this," Gordon grumbled as he picked up the fork, checking a steak and moving it slightly.

"Emily is supposed to be resting," Emily said. "Doctor's orders."

"You are a doctor," Gordon argued.

"MY doctor," Emily sighed. "My blood pressure has been spiking a bit so I was ordered to rest for a couple of days and see my OB again on Monday."

"But the baby is OK, right?"

Emily smiled. "Yes. But at this point, what affects me can affect the baby, so I am resting for the weekend."

Gordon nodded, having turned to the door when Kate and Scott carried out a tub of iced sodas. "What do you think? That they really are going to end up married?"

Now Emily's smile grew broader as she watched the couple set down the tub before Scott reached over and pulled Kate in for a quick kiss. She had always liked Kate, the woman's directness, courage and humor had allowed that. Emily had been amused to see a similarity in the protectiveness the Eppes family showed Kate to what the Tracys had for Alan.

"Kate," Emily began, "Understands the importance of family. She is honest, direct and fiercely loyal to those she loves. Kate gives as good as she gets, both good and bad. She won't take bull from anyone and she would fight to protect a loved one with her last breath. Now, you ask yourself – who does that sound like?"

Gordon grinned. His oldest brother really had found the perfect match.

* * *

><p>Don had left the White House, Robin by his side. In the end, Don felt he needed some time and a more comfortable environment to call Jeff Tracy. Don had also not told Robin why they were leaving. He had simply informed her that it involved a prison escape but didn't explain any further. Robin had worked in the justice system too long to question until Don was willing to explain. For that, Don was grateful. He knew Robin worried about Kate's job, worried about lunatics coming after her or their family due to it.<p>

Their marriage had had its ups and downs but the only time it had been seriously threatened when Kate had been shot when she was nine. Don could still feel the weight of his little girl's all-to-still body in his arms, the warmth of her blood as it ran down to his elbows as the desperate father applied pressure to the wound. His entire world shrunk to the thought of keeping his baby alive.

_Don remembered looking up to see his hysterical wife being held by his father, tears running down the older man's face as he watched, helpless, at the sight of his baby granddaughter so badly wounded. Charlie had left his wife to begin consoling Robin as well and knelt beside his brother, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder._

"_She'll be ok, Don," Charlie had said gently. "Katie is a strong girl."_

"_She shouldn't have to be," Robin said hysterically before hissing at her husband. "You promised me! You promised me, Don Eppes! You would never let the monsters you hunt hurt our babies! You promised!"_

_Squeezing Don's shoulder, Charlie helped his brother stand as the paramedics took over. The genius whispered to Don, "She's just upset, Don. It will be alright."_

_It had taken time, but Kate had recovered. By the time the little girl had come home from the hospital, Don and Robin were recovering as well. But Don knew that if their daughter had died, killed by a man Don had arrested before the couple had even married, Robin would have never forgiven him. Hell, Don didn't know if he could have forgiven himself. _

_The day Kate had told her family she had been accepted by the FBI, Don could remember the look Robin had shot him even as the twins had begun to tease their sister. Robin had been relieved because Don was preparing to retire. That had changed when the director had died and the President himself had asked Don to "take the reigns – just for a little while"._

_That was four years, and a different President, ago, and Don was still in charge. While he would never admit it, Don knew the main reason he was still the Director was that it allowed him to keep an eye on his baby. He suspected Robin knew that and it was the reason why his wife said nothing about his continued tenure with the Bureau – or having to worry about her daughter doing the same dangerous job as her father._

Don was not looking forward to this conversation.

Picking up the phone, Don was about to call Jeff Tracy when the phone rang. "Hello?" he said quickly, hoping that he had silenced the noise before Robin could hear.

"_Don?" _Charlie had quickly said. _"Colby just called me. Is Katie ok? I have some friends who can find a good safe house. I mean, NSA type, no one will find her until we say so, safe houses."_

Smiling softly, Don shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, Charlie. But I think Kate would be safer with her boyfriend's family."

Charlie was silent for half a minute before he spoke. _"Oh, so you finally know about Scott Tracy. I was wondering when you would find out."_

Stunned, Don was now the silent one before he finally laughed. "Am I the last one to know about my daughter's romantic life?"

"_Nah," _Charlie said. _"None of my kids are nuts enough to tell the dynamic duo that their baby sister is all grown-up and dating boys."_

Still chuckling, Don nodded. "Yeah, I still have to call Jeff Tracy. But from the looks Scott was giving Kate, I think the man will feel he has a vested interest as well."

The brothers chatted for another minute before Charlie yawned and mentioned he had an on-line video conference in the morning. With one more politely offered mention of assistance, Don hung up on his brother with a smile.

"Do I want to know?" Robin asked from the doorway.

Don sighed. Gesturing to a chair, he quietly said, "I have to ask a favor of Jeff Tracy. I'd like it if you just sit and listen, so I don't have to explain twice."

Robin sat down hard. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Nope," Don agreed as he picked up the phone, dialing the number the FBI techie had secured for him.

* * *

><p>"You know, Gordon," Jeff said quietly to his fourth son. "We could have initiated "Operation Cover-Up" and Lisa could have come as well."<p>

Gordon grinned at the name Alan had given to what the family did whenever the rare occasion occurred that someone who wasn't in on the Tracys' secret came to the Island. Watching as his brothers all talked quietly with their significant others, Gordon sighed.

"Dad, I like Lisa. Really. But love? The kinda of love you had with Mom and what it looks like each of my brothers have been lucky enough to find?" Gordon shook his head. "I remember you telling us how you met Mom. One date and you were ready to elope. Scott and John – one look and they were hopelessly in love. Virgil and Alan may have taken a bit more, but they were both kids when they met Sarah and Tin-Tin."

"Well," Jeff teased, "Alan still is a kid, but I get what you mean. Tracys do fall hard and fast. But you and Lisa started dating soon after you met."

Shrugging Gordon nodded. "Yeah, Dad. But that's just it. We've been dating a year come August and I still…I just don't think she's _the one._"

Jeff patted his son's arm, nodding when he recognized how much that son looked like his uncle, a man who died in his early twenties. He only had a slight memory of his uncle but he knew his mother had never forgotten her twin and had always had a soft spot for the redheaded grandchild who reminded her so much of her brother. Jeff sighed slightly, wondering what, if anything, he could say to his son to make him feel better.

Before Jeff could think of anything, Onaha's voice started singing "Happy Birthday" with the whole family quickly joining in. Instead of the usual "How old are you now?" verse, however, Gordon started in on a new version.

"We hope you get some tonight. We hope you get some tonight. We hope you get some – birthday cake toooo-night. We hope you get some tonight."

When Gordon looked around to see everyone staring at him, he just grinned. "Well, you said never to do the "How old are you now?" verse again. Just following orders!"

Jeff joined his sons and the others in their laughter. Onaha began to cut the cake but before she could begin to hand them out, Jeff's cell phone rang.

"Dad," Emily said reproachfully. "I thought we all agreed to no cell phones for the afternoon."

Shrugging, Jeff looked down at the phone. "It's from DC. I best answer it. Tracy," Jeff answered.

"_Mr. Tracy," _the voice on the other end began. "_This is FBI Director Don Eppes. We have to discuss something."_

* * *

><p>"Ah," Flint sighed from the backseat. "This feels better."<p>

Mitchell nodded absently. The change of clothing really did help. Of course, driving further away from the prison where he thought he would be spending the rest of his life was helping even more.

"So," JP asked, as he continued to drive eastward, "what is going to happen next?"

"Next," Mitchell said in a casual tone, "you will drive us to New York. Then you will do what we say -" He broke off, glancing at Flint who was giving cold stares at the back of the young man's head. Glairing at Flint, he gave a small shake to his head before continuing to speak to JP.

"You will drive us to New York and you'll listen to my instructions. Do what I say and you head back to Chicago, money in the bank and able to help your sister instead of being a burden to her. Doesn't she deserve that?"

JP nodded tightly. He was still technically a teenager. It seemed like they just wanted someone to deal with a few things, present a public face until…Well, probably just until they found a way to get out of the country. He could do this. It was for Brittany. His sister had sacrificed so much for him.

He could do this.

* * *

><p>Jeff pulled back the phone and stared at it for a moment before raising it back up and speaking.<p>

"Yes, Mr. Eppes," Jeff said casually, trying not to notice Kate's eyes go wide with surprise. "How can I help the FBI?"

"_Is my daughter with you right now?"_

"Yes, she's here. Do you need to speak with her?"

Kate began to step forward at that, worried she had missed an important call due to Emily's "no phones, just family" edict.

"_No, um, well, no." _Don sighed in frustration and Jeff felt himself feeling sorry for the man. Whatever this was, it was hard for the man to ask.

"_Actually, could you put this on speaker phone? It may end up affecting your entire family."_

Jeff sat the phone on the table and switched it to speaker phone. "Alright Mr. Eppes, you are now on speaker. Go ahead."

"_Mr. Tracy, I need to ask a very large favor of your family. I need Kate to stay with you until further notice."_

"What the -" Kate began before she shook her head. "No. Dad, whatever is going on, I am coming home. I'll be on the first -"

"_Katie – baby…If you come back to the States at the moment, you will immediately be put in protective custody. Even I won't be allowed to know where you are. If the Tracys are ok with this, at least I can know where you are and maybe talk to you on occasion. I've checked with my resources. Most people don't even have the exact location of Tracy Island and as I understand it, the White House isn't as secure."_

"Why?" Scott asked. "It isn't a matter of if it will happen. If Kate needs a secure locale, of course she will stay here. But we need to know why. We need to know what we are protecting her from."

Don sighed deeply. Thousands of miles away, he reached out and took the hand Robin was offering him.

"_There was a prison break. Joliet."_

"Joliet?" Kate mused before snapping her fingers. "Jackson Mitchell?" The Tracys eyes went wide, recognizing the name of the former Tracy employee who had tried to steal and sell national security software.

"Dad, really – I took that guy down _after _he had shot me. He's not a threat to me."

"_Katie," _Don said with a slight shake in his voice before he forced steel back into it. _"Devon Flint escaped with him."_

The Tracys were surprised when not only Kate went pale but Emily had as well.

"Oh, my God," Emily gasped. "That was that serial killer. The police contacted me and – ah – Oh."

John began to hover over his wife as she clumsily slid into a chair.

Kate looked at the Tracys before softly saying, "He was targeting Emily when she suddenly left town. His journals were full of rants about wanting to track her down and, well -" She gestured but couldn't bring herself to finish the statement.

"You were on the team that went after him?" Gordon asked.

"There was an inter-agency task force," Kate said quietly. "And yes, I was on it. But I was also a potential victim."

"But you stopped him before that could happen?" Tin-Tin questioned, her dark eyes wide as she grasped Alan's hand.

"_He was stopped when he went after Kate," _Don said. _"She, well, she-"_

"I beat the snot out of the creepazoid," Kate snarled. "He spent almost a month in the hospital."

"_His trial in California was put on hold when he was sent to Illinois. Seems someone – Katherine Louise Eppes – suggested that his escalation was too sudden in California and they should run his DNA profile against any unsolved crimes against women in the Chicago/Springfield area. It was a match in two unsolved and one case where they thought they had the right man in prison has been reopened."_

"A computer criminal and a serial killer don't seem to have a lot in common," Jeff mused.

"They do," Kate said miserably. "The arresting FBI agent – me."

_"So," _Don explained, _"since both men made credible threats against you, you need to be put into lock-down, Kate."_

"You're just saying that because you're my father," Kate argued.

"_If I was saying this as your father," _Don snapped. _"I would be coming to get you as I speak in order to bring you home where I would personally watch over you 24/7. As your boss, I am saying you need to be somewhere safe where neither you nor anyone you work with or your family is in danger. This is not an easy decision for me to make. But I expect, __**Agent**__ Eppes, that you will listen to a direct order from a superior officer. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"_

"Yes, sir," Kate said miserably.

"And the answer, of course," Jeff said as he looked around the table and caught the nods of agreement from his children, "is that Kate is welcome here until these men are caught."

"_Thank you, Mr. Tracy-"_

"Jeff."

"_Excuse me?"_

"Well, if we are going to be hiding out Kate, you can at least call me by my first name."

"_And my name is Don – and as I am sure my wife is about to blurt out, she is Robin."_

"Mom?" Kate said in surprise.

"_I'm here baby," _Robin said gently. _"Don't worry about us. I get the feeling your father and I will be practically living at Quantico until you come home."_

"I'm sorry, Mom," Kate said miserably, her eyes also expressing the emotion to the Tracys.

"_Don't be. As your father once told me, all an agent can do is try and save the world one bad guy at a time. So when they start playing tag-team, I guess we just have to go by a different set of rules. Now, if I know your father, he is already arranging for you to do remote work, in order to make you less hyper about coming back." _A harrumph in the background brought a smile to everyone's face, proving the woman correct.

"_So you work magic on your computer, let the FBI grab these two jerks and get plenty of sunshine and soak up the atmosphere. It will help when you're trudging through the slush in February in Boston."_

Kate gave a weak smile. "I love you guys."

"_We love you too, Katie." _Don said with a gentleness that was reserved mainly for his family, but always for his princess. _"But – can I assume proprieties will be observed?"_

Kate blushed and stuttered while Jeff chuckled. Taking pity on her, Sarah spoke up. "I am still spending a lot of time in Auckland. If Emily and John don't mind, Kate can have my bedroom in their villa. When I do come here, I can stay…" She trailed off until Onaha spoke up.

"The sofa in the small study in our house folds out into a bed. Sarah will stay with us."

"Darn it," Sarah muttered. "I could have said the infirmary."

"Considering that is across from Virgil's bedroom," Gordon grinned, "there is no way Dad would have ok'd that one."

Jeff glared at his fourth son before addressing the Eppes again. "Don, Robin – we will look after Kate. Don't worry."

"_You're a parent Jeff – you know the rule. You'll stop worrying about your children when you're gone."_

As the call ended, Jeff caught a strong scent of lilac and gave a small smile.

Actually, he suspected the worrying would last beyond the final veil itself.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Kate Eppes sat on the beach, watching the sun set into the Pacific, making it look as if the ocean itself was aflame. Sighing, she remembered the times she would sit with her grandfather by the koi pond in Uncle Charlie's back yard. The house was the same one her father had grown up in, Uncle Charlie buying it as an adult so that he could start to care for their aging parent after the death of Grandma Eppes.<p>

Grandpa Eppes used to love to watch the sunset. He said it was like God was saying "good night, see you tomorrow". It wasn't uncommon for one or more – sometimes all six – of his grandchildren to join him. The sad thing was that his sons rarely did, saying they were too busy. According to her cousin, Maggie, Uncle Charlie started doing the same thing two weeks after Grandpa died.

Then again, two weeks after Grandpa died was when Uncle Charlie finally started sleeping properly again.

Kate sighed once more, starting slightly when a body dropped down next to her.

"That was a deep and very profound sigh," Scott teased as he played with the thick French braid that trailed down her back.

"I was thinking of my grandfather," Kate admitted. "He used to love to watch the sunset. He said it was better than temple for getting close to God."

"Guess I'm usually too busy to watch the sun set," Scott admitted. "And Alan is the only Tracy who likes to watch the sun rise. Weird kid, I'm hoping he grows out of it."

Kate chuckled a bit but no humor reached her dark eyes. Scott put an arm around her and pulled her close.

"I'm so glad your Dad trusts us to watch out for you," Scott admitted. "I'd hate going for an undetermined amount of time before I get to see you or even speak with you." Kissing her lightly, he waited a moment before speaking again.

"Your dad seems more than usually protective of you. I know where our protectiveness of the Sprout comes from," Scott admitted. "I was just wondering about the Epic story of the Eppes."

"You first," Kate teased, unsure of how to explain her own childhood to the man she was sure she had fallen in love with.

"Let's see," Scott mused. "There were problems at his birth, an attempted kidnapping at eighteen months, the Hood trying to kill Alan I think three times, the hit-and-run, the bank robbery and last but not least, the poisoning. Is that enough?"

"How did your dad deal with the Hood almost killing Alan?" Kate asked. "The fact that he was the one the Hood hated but the man hurt his son to hurt the father?""

Scott was silent for a minute and Kate wasn't sure if he would answer before he finally did. "It nearly killed Dad. He'd spent so much time protecting Alan only to drive a wedge between the two of them. They mended their fences really well, but not until after that nut job tried to kill all of us. The last attempt on Alan was right in front of Dad. He still has nightmares at times that Alan died and he was helpless to save him."

"I was nine," Kate said so softly Scott almost didn't hear her. She pulled aside her hair and revealed a scar he had thought he had glimpsed before. "There was this drug king pin that Dad had put in jail before my parents even got married. He escaped and decided to come after Dad's family. He grabbed me at one point when I was at the house."

"I was sulking," Kate recalled. "But I can't remember what about. Something I couldn't go to or do that seemed so important at the time. Everyone else was at a BBQ at Uncle Charlie's. The next thing I heard was something falling over downstairs."

"I went downstairs and saw the agent assigned to protect me on the floor, his throat was slit. This guy grabbed me and I hit him with my soccer ball. He dropped his knife but managed to grab me again and pulled out a gun. He started dragging me out of the house, saying that before he was done, I would wish I had never been born."

"My Dad came running, a couple of his friends from the Bureau with him, all with guns drawn. There was a stand-off," Kate shakily recalled.

"It must have ended well," Scott mused. After all, Kate was alive and well.

"If you call a nine year old girl bleeding out from a neck wound in the middle of the street well, yeah – it ended fine and dandy," Kate snapped. Sucking in her breath, Kate breathed back out.

"Sorry. The sniper was half a second too late. The good news was the gun dropped from the base of my skull to the back of my neck. The bad news was his finger was on the trigger and he was pressing on it."

Scott pulled Kate into his arms, thanking God, fate, whatever – she had lived.

"I remember being so mad at my family," Kate murmured. "All I could think is that they all said they wouldn't let anyone hurt me. But someone did. I stopped relying on anyone else to protect me that day. That doesn't stop Dad from trying."

"Rely on me," Scott whispered as he sprinkled kisses in Kate's hair, with a long, lingering kiss on the scar on the back of her neck. "Count on me. Let me be your knight in shiny space-age fabric, complete with helmet and visor."

"As you would, Sir Knight," Kate murmured as she lifted her face and began to passionately kiss Scott, feeling safe for the first time since she was nine, and knowing that she never wanted this feeling to end…

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - Ah, a sweet, romantic moment to end the chapter. And of course it will soon heat up...Bet you can't wait. But you'll have to. Review!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Six Degrees of Seperation isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Do you know I have now written 50 stories? Mainly Thunderbirds. If I owned Thunderbirds, I would be rich. As I am posting this before going to my second job, I obviously do not own the Thunderbirds.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

_A week later_

JP Horne entered the small apartment he was living in. As far as the landlord knew, JP was living there for the summer, working at the Tracy Towers in the parking garage and helping his "uncle". "Uncle Mitch" was ill and so, if anyone heard a second voice, it was probably just the male nurse who would check in on the "infirmed man" while his "nephew" was working.

If anyone thought it off the neither the nurse nor the uncle was ever seen outside the apartment they didn't say anything. There was a certain anonymity to living in a large city.

"Did you pick up my cigarettes?" Flint snapped as he walked out of the bathroom.

Setting down the bag of groceries, JP pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tossed them at the older man. Flint snagged them and glared at JP.

"Just one pack?"

"Hey," JP protested. "The lease and utilities may be paid for, but I only have so much money until I get my first paycheck and that will be next week. Besides, this is a no-smoking apartment. You don't want the landlord coming in if the neighbors complain about the smell of cigarette smoke, do you?"

Flint took a menacing step towards the younger man only for Mitchell to get up from where he had been working from JP's laptop." That's enough Flint. The kid is right." Patting JP on the shoulder, he gave a small smile." Kid, I need to ask you something. Come here."

Following Mitchell into the living room, JP stilled when Flint snapped, "What about dinner?"

"What about it?" Mitchell snapped back. "Make it yourself. The kid isn't a maid."

Flint grumbled, but the sounds of pans and food preparation started to be heard in the small kitchenette.

"OK," Mitchell said in a calm, almost friendly voice. "I need your help with something. See this?" he asked, pointing to the file on the computer.

"A bomb?" JP gasped in surprise, backing up and holding his hand up in protest. "I don't want to be involved in -"

"Kid, don't worry," Mitchell said calmly. "I can set the timer so it will only cause some problems. But when they take it apart, the chemicals in the bomb have to be able to work. The threat has to seem real. Or something. This is a work in progress."

"Where are you going to put the bomb?" JP asked shakily.

"In Jeff Tracy's car," Mitchell grinned.

"You want to blow up Jeff Tracy?" JP whispered.

"Nah," Mitchell disagreed. "This isn't a murder attempt. Tracy owes me. He stole from me and then had me framed and sent to prison. I just want some compensation for my time and trouble."

"Let me get this straight," JP asked. "You want to blackmail Jeff Tracy, one of the most famous men on the planet?"

"He's also one of the richest men on the planet," Mitchell shrugged. "And blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as a redistribution of wealth, very socialistic, wouldn't you say?"

"When are you going to do this?" Flint asked from the doorway.

"That depends on JP and Tracy," Mitchell said.

"Me?" "Tracy?"

Mitchell looked between the others, nodding. "JP will tell us when Tracy and at least one of his kids show up here. It wouldn't be enough for us to scare just the big has to see a threat to one of his precious pups. Then he'll be dying to pay us off."

JP looked shaken but nodded and went into the smaller bedroom, not hearing Flint speak to Mitchell.

"Tracy isn't the kind to pay blackmail."

Mitchell grinned. "Then maybe he'll pay ransom. Or if he dies, maybe his heirs will pay for the person responsible. There are a lot of possibilities. Let's see how this plays out, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Kate walked with Scott towards Thunderbird Three, her eyes widening at the sight of the big red rocket.<p>

"I know you told me," she murmured. "But seeing it -"Kate breathed out. "Wow."

Scott pulled Kate close to him. "I hate that I have to go and leave you. Part of me was hoping that they'd catch those guys by now so that I could take you home before I left. And a part of me is equally hopeful that they won't catch them for at least another week so you'll be here when I get home."

Nodding, Kate kissed him only for another voice to call out, "OK, dudes, no PDA here. Public Displays of Affection are not allowed within 100 yards of the 'Birds."

Giving Alan a rare glare, Scott asked "And who declared that?"

"That would be you, big brother," Alan tossed back. "Back in February, when I went with John up to Five and you said that when Emily was kissing him good-bye."

"Yeah, well," Scott muttered defensively, "that was different."

"Yeah, well," Alan laughed, "no it's not. "Alan gave Kate a quick hug. "Take care of the family and I'll see you for supper." Tossing Scott his helmet, he laughed again.

"I'll start countdown, you need to be in your seat STAT before I alert the Commander I'm shy one Thunderbird who needs to do his time aboard the station."

Kate grinned as Alan entered the rocket before turning back to Scott. "You're flying it, right? Not Alan?"

"Actually," Scott shrugged, "Three will be Alan's baby once he finishes school. He flew back from Five by himself in February and went with the Hackenbackers to pick up John so that they could do repairs in April. Alan flew both ways that time. Kid's a natural space jockey." Sighing a bit, he grinned.

"Personally, I think he just likes anything that goes fast."

Smiling, Kate kissed Scott one more time before he ran to the rocket and climbed aboard. Heading back towards the villa, Kate paused by the upper pool, her eyes drawn to the library as a warning sounded. She knew her jaw dropped as the building split in two and Thunderbird Three thrust forward, rocketing into the sky.

"I never get tired of watching that," Jeff sighed as he watched his oldest and youngest sons hurtle towards space.

"Tell me again why John isn't heading up instead of Scott," Kate muttered.

Pointing to a small plane now visible on approach to the Island, Jeff nodded. "Because today is the day of the ultrasound for John and Emily's son. And with Emily having some problems, I want to make sure she is relaxing properly."

"Your grandson could be a granddaughter," Kate argued lightly, already falling into step as Jeff made his way to the hanger, anxious to greet the returning parents-to-be.

"Kate," Jeff laughed, "there hasn't been a Tracy daughter born since the family immigrated to America. My mother once told Lucy she was fairly sure the family had forgotten them back in the old country."

Kate shrugged, knowing that already since Scott had said much the same. But Alan was so sure this was a girl and somehow Kate couldn't shake the feeling that the kid was right.

* * *

><p>Emily glanced over at John as he finished landing the plane. "Are you alright?" she asked once the engine was off.<p>

Leaning over, John unbuckled himself even as he twisted his torso so he could kiss her firmly on the lips. "Emmy, my life has been better since the day I first saw you. Yeah, I may be a bit disappointed but hopefully kiddo will give a good kick. I mean, sure, he's moved a bit, but Daddy would like a big kick before he goes back up next week."

Giggling, Emily stood up even as John grabbed his shoulder bag before walking behind his wife as they got off the plane. Jeff was there to meet them.

"So?" he asked anxiously.

"Your first grandchild's first picture, Dad," John grinned as he handed it over.

Jeff looked at the ultrasound photo, marveling at how much clearer they were than when his boys were…

"I can't tell," Kate admitted as she peeked at the picture. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

Emily shrugged. "Neither could my OB. Or any of the echo techs. Baby Tracy is a modest kid."

"So he'll obviously be nothing like his Uncle Gordon," John smirked.

"Don't worry," Jeff said. "Alan did the same thing."

"Well, he turned out OK," Emily grinned.

"Scott already take off?" John asked as they began to walk towards the main house.

"Yes," Kate sighed. Looking over at Emily, she shrugged. "I guess you're used to it."

"I handle it," Emily said. "I'll never get used to John's commute to work being in a giant red rocket."

"Beats the subway," John laughed before turning to his father.

"So, Dad, how is the buy-out of the micro-chip company going?"

Jeff nodded. "Good, but I'll have to head to New York to finish the deal. The owner is insisting on signing the final contracts in person."

Kate murmured. "Understandable, he built the company from scratch and now he wants to make sure his employees are taken care of." Seeing the surprised looks, she blushed. "What, Scott and I were discussing business. It was interesting."

"Is that what they call it these days?" John teased.

"Watch it, Blondie," Kate threatened. "I could always use a sparring partner for karate."

Having seen Kate spar with Scott – and beat his older brother – John quickly shook his head. "Nope, no way – we're good here."

Emily giggled and pulled Kate to the side. "Come on, I want to get your opinion on the swatches for the nursery."

Watching the two women move off, Jeff couldn't help but smile. "Emily is doing better?" he asked his son.

John nodded. "Yes, but the doctor wants her to cut back on her hours at the clinic. Luckily, she has it set up well enough that she can do most of the administrative work from home. And Sarah Jane helped arrange for some physician assistants from her school to do clinical work there so they have coverage for the next few months."

When Jeff nodded as well, John looked over to where Emily, Kate, Onaha and Virgil had gathered around. Virgil had always had a good eye for color, artist that he was, so it wasn't surprising the women had roped him in.

"Kate doesn't seem to be working as much either," John joked.

"No," Jeff admitted. "Kate says it's because she isn't constantly getting stuff dumped on her desk at work."

"According to Emily," John sighed, "it's because Kate is sleeping less than Scott these days. And you know big brother isn't big on sleeping a lot."

"She's worried about her family," Jeff agreed. "Early indicators place the escaped convicts heading East but while her parents are staying in special quarters at Quantico, that still leaves her brothers and her uncle's family in Los Angeles. And since the FBI feels it would be a waste, there is no extra protection there."

"Is that the only reason Scott is teaching Kate about Tracy Enterprises?" John asked. "To distract her?"

Jeff simply smiled. "Nope. When you married Emily, not only did we get the best possible person for the charitable clinic, we got a wonderful addition to the family. With Kate, I am hoping for a similar outcome. An amazing woman who will make Scott happy but also someone with the skills, experience and education to head up the Cyber Security Division I have wanted to create for the last several years."

Thinking back, Jeff sighed. "To tell the truth, I had considered Jackson Mitchell for the position at one point. If it is as successful as I think it will be, I would probably make the Division Head a vice-president's position eventually. But as talented as Mitchell was, he lacked certain people skills. Kate may be extremely direct, but she knows how to be part of and how to lead a team.

Not to mention, she understands the beauracratic mind and is comfortable working with government agencies."

"Better make sure Mitchell doesn't know that," John joked. "It may make him want to shoot Kate again."

"Actually -" Jeff started, only to freeze when Gordon's attempt at a water balloon at Virgil managed to hit Kate, Emily and Virgil in the back .As Emily stood up, shaking herself off, Kate and Virgil immediately took off running after the redhead.

"You might want to check on -" Jeff began only to realize that his second son had joined the other two in chasing Gordon down to the beach. Walking up to the lanai, Emily was gratefully accepting a towel that Onaha had fetched from the house.

"I'm going to go change, Dad," Emily said with as much dignity as she could muster. "Let me know if Gordon needs medical care."

Jeff managed to keep a straight face until Emily was securely in the smaller villa she shared with John. But as soon as the door closed, he joined Onaha in the laughter she was already enjoying .Shaking her head, the housekeeper headed into the kitchen.

"I will get the ice-packs ready, Mr. Tracy," she called out, making the Tracy father laugh even harder.

He may have gotten a few gray hairs from his children, but you had to admit it. They were never boring.

* * *

><p>Jackson Mitchell sat at the computer while JP read through a text book, making notes. <em>I can read this kid so easily, <em>Mitchell thought as he continued to type away. It was clear that the college student had lacked a male role model for a while. Mitchell realized that by being supportive and protective, he was slowly gaining JP's trust and, he hoped, his loyalty.

In truth, Mitchell knew Tracy was the not the sort to give in to intimidation. But if the Big Man was distracted by a threat to his family? Mitchell had noticed that when Tracy's youngest son, Alan, had been hit by a car, the man had been distracted, running the business more and more from his private island get-a-way. And later, when the boy had been poisoned by some psycho, that was when Mitchell had counted on a similar pattern of behavior, allowing him to set in to play his plot to sell the top secret software. It had only been because of a random search by some FBI agent that Mitchell had gotten caught.

_Mitchell had slipped away from the office party on December 22__nd__. Tracy Enterprises closed from the 23__rd__ through the 26__th__ or 27__th__, depending on the office. Jeff Tracy always said it was important that people spent time with their families. It also allowed for upgrades of software, improvement of equipments and repairs of the properties themselves. In the eyes of the Tracy Patriarch, it was a win-win situation._

_Jackson Mitchell had made arrangements for his buyer to meet him at the loading dock of Tracy Plaza in downtown Chicago. But when he got there, he not only couldn't find his foreign buyer, he was shocked to see Kate Allen, the temporary worker in the IT department._

_"Ms. Allen," Mitchell said coolly. "You don't have access for this area. I think you should leave."_

_"Wanna see my all-access pass?" the young woman snapped, holding open a small wallet, displaying her FBI credentials._

Before Mitchell really knew what was happening, the bitch had shot him. Mind you, he had shot her first, but the man didn't really think that was all that relevant.

Somehow, Mitchell felt it was karma that that woman was now tied in with the Tracys. Everything he hated, all tied up in one easy to destroy package.

Feeling someone's eyes upon him, Mitchell glanced over to see JP watching him.

"Hey, kid," Mitchell said in an easy, friendly tone. "Something wrong?"

JP sighed. "You meant what you said, Jackson, right? No one is going to get hurt."

Mitchell smiled. "Nope. Just some property damage. See this?" he pointed to the monitor in front of stood, nodding as he looked. "I've found the back door I left in the security system. I can tie it in to the security camera program and view anything in the Towers. Now, while this is set for a timer, I can override it if someone is too close by. It'll be fine, kid – you have my word on that."

Nodding again, JP looked at his cell phone as it began to ring. "Brittney. I got take the call."

As JP slipped onto the fire escape to speak with his older sister in privacy, Flint came out of the bedroom.

"A safety switch? Why getting so fancy?"

Mitchell grinned, the feral expression frighteningly different from the smiles he had been giving JP.

"Don't be an ass. There is no safety switch. I just said that to calm the kid down. I am, however, installing a dead-man's. If an ideal target gets close enough, I can make sure they go down."

"You really want Tracy dead that badly?" Flint asked.

"No," Mitchell growled. "I want the bastard to hurt. I want him to hurt so badly he'll wish he were dead a hundred times over. I want Jeff Tracy to wish he never heard the name Jackson Mitchell before."

* * *

><p>Alan Tracy smiled and nodded at the Hackenbackers as the father and son carried some equipment down to Brains' lab. The pair had had a blast working on projects up on Five and were already planning what they would be doing the next time they went to the space station.<p>

Entering his father's office, Alan made sure not to appear in the view of the vid-phone since he was still wearing his Thunderbirds gear. Jeff glanced over from his call and smiled at Alan, silently signaling him that he would be with him in a minute.

Five minutes later, Jeff ended his call and turned to his youngest with a smile.

"Hey Dad," Alan said cheerily. "Can I ask a favor?"

"You can ask," Jeff said cautiously. "I offer no guarantees."

Chuckling, Alan shook his head. "Seriously, Dad – no red hair. No worries from me. But my friend Tomo – you remember Tomo, right?"

"Tomo," Jeff said thoughtfully before snapping his fingers. "Hiraku Wattamee's son, right?"

"Right Dad," Alan agreed. "His birthday is next week and Virgil just finished his present. I had Ann Marie help me and we found an old picture of Tommy and his dad at a company picnic. Virgil just finished painting it for me and I worry about mailing it half way around the world. Since you said you were heading to New York in a few days and Tommy is staying in New York with his mom for most of the summer while he gets ready for Yale, I thought you could let him pick it up at the office."

"Better yet," Jeff said, "why not have him pick it up from you?"

"Dad," Alan said in confusion, "do you really want Tommy to fly all the way out here?"

"No," Jeff smiled. "I want you to come to New York with me. After I handle a few meetings, you and I could maybe – catch a movie?"

Jeff handed Alan an envelope. Alan grinned when he opened it. "Seriously, Dad? Tickets to the premiere of "Henry Cooper and the Mysterious Martian Chamber"? "

Jeff shrugged. "I had wanted to take you to the premiere of the first movie last year but…"

When Jeff's voice trailed off, Alan felt his heart ache for his father. The pair hadn't attended the movie premiere last year because Alan had been in the critical care unit after being hit by a car. As devastating as the accident had been for Alan, the teenager knew it haunted his family even worse. On impulse, Alan leaned forward and hugged his father tightly.

"Thanks, Dad," he said softly. "It will be great." Leaning back, he smiled. "Maybe we can even have Tomo and his mother over for dinner one night. She's available, you know."

"Alan," Jeff admonished his son, even as he chuckled at the mischievous look in the boy's eyes.

Alan jumped up, heading towards the door. "This is so cool. I've gotta call Tommy and let him know."

"Change first," Jeff called, ignoring the "duh" that trailed back in the wake of the excited teenager. Walking back to his desk, Jeff dug back into his work, wanting to have as little as possible time in the office. He wanted the time in New York with Alan to be one that neither of them would ever forget.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - So, Alan and Jeff head to New York together. I'm sure it will be fine.**_

_**Alan - Yeah, like it was fine the last time we went to New York.**_

_**CC - Alan! C'mon. You should be in a good mood. You just got to fly a pretty red rocket.**_

_**Alan - Well, yeah - but what are you planning?**_

_**CC - Hmm. Well, I can promise you - I'm not planning on stabbing you. (Mutters) In this story.**_

_**Gordon - Hey, c'mon. What are you planning on doing?**_

_**CC (yells) - Hey, Kate! He's over here!**_

_**Gordon - That's evil! (starts to run, Kate following a moment later)**_

_**CC - Hi Kate, bye Kate. And Gordon! (yells) No duh!**_

_**Alan - You are scary.**_

_**CC (shrugs) Where do you think Kate gets it from?**_

_**Alan - So, bake anything lately?**_

_**CC - Chicken popovers. Hungry?**_

_**Alan (grabs a popover) - You may stab me, shoot me, wound me six ways to Sunday but...Keep feeding me and we are good.**_

_**CC - You are such a Tracy. (sighs) Review people. And maybe I can come up with a better convo when I do chapter eight. (grins evilly) I promise, what is coming up soon you will not want to miss...Excuse me, I have to go perform the Heimlich on Alan.**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Six Degrees of Seperations Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer - Sigh. So not mine.<strong>

**Chapter 7**

Scott Tracy sighed. He wasn't sure what was worse – being on Thunderbird Five when there were plenty of rescues or being on Thunderbird Five when all was quiet.

John relished these quiet times, allowing him to do research and work on his books. Brains – especially now that he could bring Fermat – was in geek heaven. Even Virgil said the peace and serenity of the stars were inspirational for his art and music. Only Gordon hated being up on the space station more than Scott. But then the redhead hated anything that kept him from swimming.

Thinking of his family back on Earth, Scott's mind wandered to the woman he had also left back there. Kate Eppes had completely changed his life and he couldn't imagine a future that didn't have her in it. Scott had been shocked when John had known before he met Emily that he wanted her and Virgil would have run off with Sarah Jane right from the get-go if he didn't think their Dad would have had his hide for that. Jeff wouldn't have been too unhappy missing his son's wedding, but missing his honorary daughter's?

Forget that.

Sarah was even wearing Lucy Tracy's wedding dress when she married Virgil in the fall. She had tried the dress on at Jeff's suggestion and the family – minus Virgil who Sarah had refused to allow in the room when she modeled the gown – all agreed that it was a perfect fit and that Lucy would have been thrilled for "her" Sarah Jane to wear the dress.

But back to Kate, his mind argued with him. He loved her. Scott knew that. He already knew he wanted to marry her. But how to convince her to give up her job? The sad truth was that being an FBI agent was dangerous enough, but as the wife of a Tracy? It was the reason that Sarah had stopped being a paramedic, why Emily had left the hospital. Luckily, the still found satisfaction in the work they now did for the Tracy Charitable Trust, but Kate wouldn't.

Then again, there was that position at Tracy Enterprises. Scott knew that Jeff was hoping that the time Kate would be spending on the Island would allow him to broach the subject with her. But after the excitement of the FBI, would Kate being willing to settle for the day-in, day-out work of the boardroom? _Or, _Scott thought with a grin, _would Kate cause some of the stuffed shirts in Tracy Enterprises to be looking closely at early retirement?_

Still chuckling at the image of Kate being less in the boardroom of Tracy Enterprises, Scott was startled when the communicator signal went off. Checking, Scott could see that it was the Island. Flipping a switch, Scott smiled at the sight of his youngest brother.

"Hey, Allie – what's up, Sprout?"

Alan was grinning himself.

"Hey yourself, Scott – and don't call me Sprout," Alan greeted him.

"What's new, Alan?" Scott asked.

"Dad just got done talking with Millie Bates," Alan laughed. "Did you know she had a date lined up for you?"

Scott's eyes went wide. "She so didn't?" he gasped.

"Oh yes she did," Alan quipped.

Scott looked suspicious. "Why was Dad talking to Millie about that, anyhow?"

Alan grew solemn. "They still haven't found those two escaped convicts. Dad called to warn Sheriff Taylor that you were bringing Kate to the wedding -"

"Amos is still sheriff?"

Alan grinned. "Dad said that when he called. Actually, I think his exact words were _"Wow, Amos – you're still alive?"_."

Scott laughed. "I bet Sheriff Taylor loved that."

Grinning still, Alan shook his head. "He was annoyed. At least until Millie Bates came in with the Sheriff's dinner and she reminded Dad how she had covered for him when he was – well, shall we say _uncovered?_ Oh, yeah, brother mine," Alan laughed. "Dad was almost caught skinny dipping when he was sixteen."

Looking slightly green, Scott asked, "Not with Millie?" _PLEASE – not with Miss Millie._

"No," Alan seemed a bit confused. "Someone named Corrine Harold."

"No-no-no-no," Scott gasped.

"What?"

"Corrine Harold married Tom Baker," Scott gasped. Seeing that Alan still didn't get it, he shook his head. "That's right. You didn't go to high school in Bailey at all. But all the rest of us had Mrs. Baker for Freshman English. And I always wondered why she never let her daughters anywhere near a Tracy boy."

Alan snickered. "Because the apple doesn't fall far from the tree?"

"Yes, well," Scott blustered, "just because, um, well, I mean -"

"Relax, Scott," Alan laughed again. "Just because you decided that fooling around under bleachers was cool -"

"You so didn't?"

Kate Eppes stood in the doorway, looking in disbelief at her boyfriend. "And you were shocked when I, well, when, um," she trailed off, glancing at Alan.

"Oh, please," Alan said in dismay as he stood up. "PLEASE – that is not why it took so long for you guys to get the stuff from storage." Moving towards the doorway, he shook his head. "Never mind – I so don't want to know." Looking at his brother, he sighed, "We'll check in on you when we get to New York."

Kate settled down in the chair and smiled at Scott. "He is so easily flustered. Think he'll ever figure out that I was teasing him?"

Scott chuckled. "You'll have my little brother thinking the worst every time both of us are missing at the same time."

"Yeah," Kate grinned. "I know." Glancing at a folder in her hand, she tapped it against the desk. "Any idea what this is?"

"That would be a manila folder," Scott said, leaning back in his chair. "Don't you use them in the government?"

"Not that much," Kate admitted. "But that's enough from you, I asked a question."

"I give," Scott conceded. "What is it?"

"A job prospectus," Kate said. "Your father asked me to look it over. Did you know about this?"

"If you are worried Dad created a job for you, you're wrong," Scott said firmly. "Dad has been looking for someone to fill that job for more than a year, almost two in fact. He can't start the division until he has the right person to lead it. Did I know he wanted you for it? Yes. Does that have anything to do with the fact that _I _want you? No. Will some people say Dad created a job for his daughter-in-law? Yes. Do I have absolute assurance that you will knock them down to size when you create a huge money-maker of a division for Tracy Enterprises and end up as one of the youngest vice-presidents in the company's history? Hell, yes."

"In other words, Katie," Scott said firmly. "I believe in you and know you would be a real asset for the company. And on a personal level, I would be relieved to know that people would only be gunning for you in the boardroom."

"Only in the boardroom, huh?" Kate asked. "Can I bring my own guns?"

"Katie," Scott said firmly. "You are not allowed to shoot anyone in our boardroom. The cleaning crew would be very unhappy."

"Yeah, yeah," Kate sighed. "I know. Don't tick off the cleaning crew. You may have to start emptying your own trash cans."

"Are you thinking about it?" Scott asked.

"My folks sure would like it if I didn't have a job that includes a bullet-proof vest," Kate admitted before smiling at Scott.

"You said daughter-in-law?"

Scott smiled back. "Don't worry. I'll do it right. I have my mom's rings…" He shrugged. "It's nothing fancy. Dad was a government employee back then."

"I don't do fancy," Kate said softly. "And your mother's rings sound perfect."

She sighed as she tapped the folder one more time. "I'll read it."

"That's all we can ask," Scott said before looking a bit sad. "I miss you. You've only been in my life a little more than a month, but now I can't imagine life without you."

"Ditto, Fly boy," Kate admitted. "Gotta go." She pressed her fingers against the screen. "Miss you, too."

Kate sat there as the screen faded to black. Looking down at the folder, she decided to retreat to John and Emily's house. She had something she really had to think about.

* * *

><p>Lisa McKenna anxiously looked over her notes as she made her way to the executive suites of Tracy Enterprises. It had always surprised her that Jeff Tracy preferred a printed copy to just having reports e-mailed to him. With the distance between the island of Manhattan and Tracy Island, he did have to accept most reports via computer. But Mr. Tracy was coming here and would want to read the recommendations her report made prior to signing contracts for a new buy-out.<p>

In an age when many business men would buy a company, strip it of it's worth and leave its employees hanging in the wind, companies acquired by Tracy Enterprises knew they were lucky. Jeff Tracy would do everything possible to keep all employees working, if not at their original jobs, then at one at another site. As one man had put it to Lisa "You give Jeff Tracy one hundred percent, he'll match it and toss in another twenty-five".

Lisa wondered if Gordon would be accompanying his father. The red-head hadn't seemed to be able to make it out as often as he had before. Lisa assumed that things wouldn't be lasting much longer between them. Seeing how quickly his three older brothers had laid their claims to the women in the life – one a wife, one a fiancée and the third was rumored to soon be one or the other – Lisa suspected that while Gordon did care about her and was attracted to her, he knew what she knew. She was not the love of his life. And a Tracy would accept nothing less as a future spouse.

Well, that was neither here nor there. Maybe Lisa should start the conversation. If nothing else, Gordon was a good friend and fun to be around. And if they were friends with benefits, that would be fine with Lisa.

Sighing, Lisa entered the conference room, smiling at Ann-Marie as the loyal right hand of Jeff Tracy finished setting up the table. She could do this, she could do this…

Sure she could.

* * *

><p>A few hours after talking with his oldest brother, Alan calmly landed Tracy One at the small airport on the edge of the city. Turning to his father, Alan grinned when he saw the pleased look on Jeff's face.<p>

"Not too bad at all, Alan," Jeff said with a grin before he frowned. "Who flew with you to get your hours?"

"Usually Kyrano," Alan explained. "Brains actually took me to get my license."

"I wonder why he never told us," Jeff wondered as he grabbed their bags, turning to look at Alan when his youngest didn't say anything.

"Dad," Alan said softly, "I was there at the table when Brains told you. You nodded and began to talk to Virgil about improvements to Two."

Jeff froze before he dropped the bags and pulled Alan into a fierce hug. "Sorry, Allie," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Well," Alan smiled. "You know now. That's all that matters." Bending down, he grabbed both bags and headed down the steps, quickly moving to the car that Ann-Marie had arranged to have waiting for them.

Jeff stayed still as he whispered, "Oh, Luc – I screwed up so much. How can he or you ever forgive me?"

Lavender tickled at Jeff's nose as he sensed more than heard the words _Because we both love you, Rocket Man. Now – stop being an ass and go to our baby._

"Yes, Ma'am," Jeff whispered with a smile as he ran after Alan.

"Hey, Dad," Alan said as he locked the trunk after securing the luggage. "Can I drive?" he asked as he gently placed Tomo's present in the back seat.

Setting his own briefcase behind the seat, Jeff held out his hand. "Keys, Alan. You can drive us back but traffic heading to downtown Manhattan on a Friday afternoon is insane. I'd rather you not land in the hospital again anytime soon."

Alan just laughed as he slid into the passenger seat. "Not in my summer plans either, Dad. Not by a long shot."

* * *

><p>Forty five minutes later, Jeff and Alan pulled into a reserved spot in the parking garage that was attached to the Tracy Towers by a skywalk twenty stories above the busy New York City streets below. "Remind me why I didn't just take a heli-jet?" Jeff grumbled. "Or at least have had Ann-Marie arrange for someone to come pick us up?"<p>

"Because," Alan said reasonably. "You like to maintain the illusion that we are normal. But since normal is in the eyes of the beholder, I maintain that we are normal and the rest of the world is nuts."

Jeff stopped and stared at his youngest before laughing. "You've been hanging around Gordon too much again."

"Sir," a voice called out. A young, thin man with grey eyes and dark blonde hair ran over. "Sir, that is private parking -"

Chuckling, Jeff patted the young man's arm. "Son, I can assure you – I can park here. Let's see, Marcus said he hired two people to help in the garage for the summer. Since you don't look like an Angie, you must be JP."

"Yes, sir," JP said, confused. "My real name is Jeff, but I've always been JP."

"Jeff Tracy," Jeff smiled, holding out a hand. JP took it in surprise, shaking hands with the billionaire. "This is my youngest son, Alan."

Alan smiled and held out his own hand. "So you got one of the summer jobs, huh? Better than flipping burgers?"

JP gave a nervous laugh and nodded. "Yes. Um, it helps I am staying with a friend. I live close by. But I can save more this way. Student loans only cover so much."

"What are your grades like, JP?" Jeff asked, honestly interested.

"I'm an honors student, sir," JP said.

Pulling out a small notebook, Jeff wrote down some info and handed it to JP. "See Abby in personnel. If you are willing to work hard, there are scholarship opportunities available for employees."

"But I'm just a summer employee," JP protested.

"I'm always on the lookout for good people," Jeff smiled. "I believe in investing in my people, I've found the dividends are immense. You go to the University of Chicago, right? We have a Chicago office. If you do well here, there could be a part-time job there. But your studies come first."

Alan chuckled and nodded at JP. "Don't worry – he says the same thing to me."

JP watched as father and son walked away, already lost in friendly chatter. Somewhere in his heart, JP recalled walking that way with his own dad, talking about everything and nothing at all.

Once the pair was out of sight, JP turned and looked at the car they had left behind. He could have sworn he was told that Jeff drove a different car. But maybe the info was outdated. Whatever – the Tracys would not be coming back anytime soon, so it was time to plant the device the Mitchell had given him.

* * *

><p>Arriving in the penthouse, Jeff set down his suitcase, while Alan went to his room to unpack.<p>

"Alan?" Jeff called out.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I have to get downstairs to the meeting," Jeff explained when Alan came back into the living room.

"Already?" Alan asked, disappointed. "I was going to make lunch. Pasta Primvera," he offered in a sing-song voice.

Jeff groaned. "Um, darn it. Why not we have that for dinner? Make yourself a sandwich and veg in front of the television. The meeting shouldn't take too long."

Alan laughed. "And we don't get that offer too much."

Ruffling his son's hair, Jeff grabbed his briefcase and moved towards the door. Looking back at the door, Jeff could see Alan had already found a showing of "Henry Cooper and the Lunar Stone". Jeff felt regret washing over him, remembering that he was supposed to have taken Alan to that movie's premiere the year before. If only he hadn't lost his temper and yelled at Alan; if only Alan hadn't run off into the night, running being his source of stress relief; if only two boys hadn't decided to drive drunk, Alan wouldn't have nearly died.

His late mother had often said the two saddest words in the English language were "if only". Ruth Tracy had been a very smart woman.

* * *

><p>JP secured the device to the underside of the car, setting the timer for one hour. He had checked, Mr. Tracy would be in a meeting for at least the next hour or two and when he had asked if it was alright to secure the area, JP's boss had assured him it would be fine. Mr. Tracy's PA had admitted that after the meeting, the billionaire and his son would be having dinner in the penthouse at the top of the Towers. If they went anywhere, the pair preferred to walk.<p>

That suited JP just fine. Once the area was secure, you would need a pass-card to get in. When the bomb went off, there would be no one around.

* * *

><p>Alan had long finished the sandwich and while the movie was good – even for the tenth time – it wasn't as enjoyable by himself. So when the door opened, Alan looked up hopefully.<p>

"Hi, Alan," Lisa said with a smile. "Your dad's car is due back from the mechanics in the morning. I told Ann-Marie I would move the fleet car back to its area. But I'll need the pass card to get in to that area of the garage."

Alan stood up, turning off the television. "I can do it, Lisa."

"Do you know where the fleet cars are parked?" Lisa asked.

"Well, no," Alan admitted.

"So – how about a team effort?" Lisa teased. "I'll give directions and you get to flex that new driver's license."

Alan grinned. "Not much of a chance to do it otherwise. Between school and the Island, I'm more likely to walk than drive."

"The way Gordon puts it, you were more likely to run than walk," Lisa joked as Alan grabbed the keys and pass-card Jeff had left on the table.

"With the four of them for older brothers," Alan said straight-faced, "who could blame me?"

Lisa and Alan left quickly, laughing and talking as they went.

Jeff stood up and held out a hand as he smiled at the man across the table.

"Don't worry, Mr. Adams," Jeff said. "I'll take good care of your employees."

"Most people would say the company," Dilbert Adams said as he stood up and took Jeff's hand. "Thank you for letting me know I made the right choice. Now, how about you join me for dinner?"

"Thank you," Jeff smiled. "But I already have plans."

"Some hot little blonde?" a lawyer for Adams snickered.

A cold look from Mr. Adams was bad enough but glare from Jeff Tracy was worse.

"My dinner plans," Jeff said coldly, "do include a blonde. But I don't know if I would call my sixteen year old son "hot". In fact, to quote him – ewww."

The lawyer looked annoyed as the rest of the room laughed at him. Men like Jeff Tracy annoyed the hell out of Roddy Haas. He had only taken this case for his father's sake. Gerald Haas had wanted him to try and talk to the billionaire. _"For Emily, Roderick. Please – she's your sister." _

His sister. Hah. He barely knew Emily. His only sibling could have – should have – been the perfect little debutante that their mother had wanted. Instead Emily had to prove she was smarter than Roderick, and was now a doctor. Then she went and overshadowed Roddy's marriage to Kelsey Enderson, who had been the leading debutante in her year, by marrying a Tracy son.

But as much as he knew he was more his mother's son, Roderick did love his father, in his own fashion. He waited for half a minute as Tracy's minions left the room.

"Mr. Tracy," Roderick calmly said. "I'm sorry. That was a crass comment and beneath both of us. I'd like to introduce myself – Roderick Haas."

"Haas?" Jeff questioned, looking confused then wary.

"Emily is my sister," Roderick explained.

"As far as Emily is concerned," Jeff said quietly. "She has four brothers – John's brothers. Susan Haas made it clear that none of you had any place in your lives for her."

"The truth?" Roddy said. "For the most part, I agree with my mother. Emily had a role to play and she just didn't get with the program. However," he quickly continued when he saw Jeff's face fill with anger. "My father is different. He won't buck the system. He won't be caught in a war between my mother and my wayward sister. But he does love Emily. And all he wants to know is – is Emily happy?"

Jeff looked like he didn't want to answer for a moment. Then he recalled how Emily did fondly remember brief times in her life that her father had been there. But the times had been few and far between, the man not willing to stand up to her domineering mother.

"Emily is happy. She and John are expecting their first child in October. Professionally, Emily will be heading the clinic for Tracy Charitable Trust."

"I'll tell my father," Roderick nodded, leaving quickly.

Jeff walked away himself, entering his office instead of heading straight up to the penthouse as he had planned. He picked up the picture with Emily and John's wedding day. His son had beamed proudly and Emily had positively glowed. The young woman was amazingly resilient. Jeff knew how much cutting herself off from her family had hurt her, but she had simply thrown herself deeper into the life she was building with John.

Gerald Haas, Jeff decided, was realizing what he had given up. But he still wasn't willing to fight for his daughter. And until he was, Jeff was not about to let Emily be hurt again.

Setting the picture back down, Jeff grabbed the phone and called up to the penthouse. When no one answered, Jeff now called Alan's cell.

"_Hey, Dad." _

"Alan, where are you?"

"_Lisa and I are about to move the car you used. Your car will be back tomorrow, early, so we figured it would be best to do it now."_

"Alright, Alan – but no joyriding."

"_Aw, heck – and I wanted to recreate the scene from "Ferris Bueller"."_

Jeff laughed but then heard something odd on Alan's end.

"Alan, what is that?"

"_That guy – JP? – is coming this way and yelling. Wait a second – Lisa, here is the card pass, can you open the door? Thanks. I can't understand him, he saying something about -"_

A loud explosion echoed from both the earpiece and from the garage across from Jeff's window. Whipping around, Jeff stared in horror at the sight of smoke pouring from the highest level of the parking garage. The garage itself was only fourteen stories high and Jeff's office was on the eightieth floor of the towers, with the penthouse being the sole occupant above the executive suites. But as high up as Jeff was, he felt as if he had been thrust into the lowest pit of Hell.

"Alan!" he cried into the phone, receiving silence as his answer.

"Alan," Jeff whispered as he looked over at the smoky garage complex.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Evil enough?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough **

**by Criminally Charmed**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Disclaimer - Nope. Not mine. Wish they were. Now, my birthday is on Monday so if anyone sees them at the mall...<em>**

**Chapter Eight**

JP had finished up a report that his supervisor had asked him to do and went to check his e-mail. Tracy Employees were encouraged to check their in-boxes at least once an hour as all site-wide information was distributed that way. As a summer employee, brought in to supplement staffing during high vacation periods in "non-essential" positions, JP didn't have a lot of e-mail. But he was pleased to see a response from HR, with a scholarship form attached, as well as a release of information so that Tracy Enterprises could receive a copy of his transcripts.

Leaning back in his chair, JP began to feel guilty. Jeff Tracy didn't seem at all like Jackson Mitchell had described. The billionaire seemed much more like the man his employees had described – friendly, generous and concerned about all of his employees – than the greedy, selfish man of Mitchell's stories.

Reaching for his phone, JP played with the device as he considered calling the police. He knew he would be in trouble but he was beginning to feel he just couldn't live with himself if he continued to aid Mitchell. And he knew the world would be a safer place with Flint once more locked up.

Suddenly, movement on one of the security screens caught JP's eye. It was the walkway leading to the parking area he had just secured. Located next to the executive parking area, this space was strictly for the Tracys or invited guests. Why anyone would be going there…

"Oh, shit," JP muttered, seeing Jeff Tracy's son and…Laura? Lisa! Lisa McKenna - that was her name. Could they even get in? Well, JP was not about to take a chance. Jumping up he began to run through the parking garage. He had to get to the pair before they opened that door!

* * *

><p>Alan heard his cell phone start to play his dad's ringtone – "Rocket Man" – and the teenager grinned. Nudging Lisa, he said "Told you Dad would call before I could even get to the car. He's worse than Santa Claus."<p>

"Hey, Dad."

_"Alan, where are you?"_

"Lisa and I are about to move the car you used. Your car will be back tomorrow, early, so we figured it would be best to do it now."

_"Alright, Alan – but no joyriding."_

"Aw, heck – and I wanted to recreate the scene from "Ferris Bueller"." Lisa snickered at that comment.

"Hey – Hey, don't go in there!"

Alan looked up to see the kid from earlier running towards him. Alan stifled a groan, hoping that when the guy got closer he would remember Alan so that they didn't need to get security involved. A simple errand was turning into a royal pain.

JP ran closer, still yelling. Before he could respond to the other guy, Alan could hear his father.

"Alan, what is that?"

"That guy – JP? – is coming this way and yelling. Wait a second – Lisa, here is the card pass, can you open the door? Thanks. Hearing a small beep, Alan could see the electronic lock turn from red to green as Lisa waived the card-pass in front of the sensor. I can't understand him, he saying something about -"

Whatever Alan would have said – or what JP was saying to him – was lost when just as Lisa pulled open the secured door and a loud roar filled his ears. Lisa began to cry out only for the sound to die in her throat. Alan was thrown back, slamming his upper body into a steel reinforced concrete divider. As blackness overtook the teenager, he could swear he heard his father's voice…

Then he knew nothing at all.

* * *

><p>Brains and John had long ago programmed the monitors of Thunderbird Five to pick up any mention of "Tracy" or "Tracy Enterprises". So as Scott thumbed through some reports for the business, he at first thought that it was his imagination that brought out the sound over the speaker.<p>

It took Scott a moment to realize what he was hearing. No one was calling them – it was something that could be handled by New York Police and Fire. But it was the location:

The parking garage attached to the Tracy Towers.

"OK, OK," Scott muttered. "Maybe they aren't even there yet. Maybe they haven't left the Island."

Please God – Let them not to have left the Island.

* * *

><p>John sat at his father's desk, thumbing through a report on a new satellite that they were building. Pulling out a stylus, he crossed off and made notes on his data pad, nearly completing the report when suddenly the vid-phone signaled an incoming call.<p>

Noticing that it was Thunderbird Five, John smiled. "Hey, Scott," John said cheerfully as he flipped it on. "How's my 'Bird -"

"Please, John – Tell me that Dad and Allie haven't left the Island."

Stilling at the panic on Scott's face, John forced the words out through his numbed throat.

"Alan and Dad are already in New York. The meeting got moved up to noon, so they left right after Alan talked to you."

When Scott went completely white at the news, John became scared. The last time he had seen Scott go that pale was when the avalanche had buried their mother and little brother, a tragedy from which only the Tracy baby had survived.

Before either brother could say anything, Emily ran into the room. John stood and grasped his wife by her shoulders.

"Emmy – what are you doing? The doctor said you were supposed to be resting. Running is not resting."

"John," Emily gasped. "It – it was on the news. There was an explosion at the Tracy Towers. Someone was saying it looked like a bomb."

Pulling his wife into his arms, John looked over at Scott.

Scott shook his head. "Emergency services say that it is in the garage, not the Tower."

John sighed with relief. "Well, if it just went off in the garage, we're good. Dad called me on his way into the meeting. Alan was in the penthouse and Dad is in the boardroom. The odds that they are anywhere near the explosion is pretty damn slim."

Looking up and shaking his head, Scott was grim. "No – I don't think we got that lucky this time. Johnny – call Dad. Get confirmation. I'll try Alan. Call me back if you hear anything and I will do the same."

Nodding, John ended the call, guiding Emily to a chair before heading to call his father.

"John?" Emily asked softly. "They are alright, right? I mean, like you said – the odds…"

"I don't know, Emmy," John said in a hushed tone. "Let's not buy any trouble. We get enough for free."

Emily worried her lower lip, running her hand over her stomach, soothing her unborn child who had become active at "Mom's" anxiety. "It will be ok, baby," Emily silently whispered. "It will be ok."

* * *

><p>New York Fire Fighter Tony Delgado, was suiting up, preparing to head into the still burning garage when a voice called out his name.<p>

"Hey Tony," FBI Agent Daria Delgado, his wife of three years, called out to him. "Is it stable enough to go in?"

"It's gonna have to be, Dar," Tony responded. "We know that two, maybe three people, were close to the explosion site. None of them have come out, so we gotta go in."

"You're nuts," Daria muttered. "You don't know the situation. You should wait -"

"Until it's too late?" Tony countered. He touched the side of her face briefly with his gloved hand. "Remember what Boston used to say? "Of course firefighters are crazy.

Who else runs into burning buildings when everyone else is running out?" What can I say – she was right."

"You and your nicknames," Daria grouched. "Sarah or Woody, those were her names. Not Boston." Nodding, Daria stepped back. "Get back here in one piece. It's your turn for diaper duty tonight."

"Yes, Ma'am," Tony saluted before waving to his partner and moving cautiously into the smoky structure.

Looking around, Daria spotted her partner, Greg Sanders, talking to Carl Patrick, the head of security for Tracy Enterprises.

"Mr. Patrick," Daria greeted him, remembering him from the bank robbery the year before. "I had hoped if we met again, it would be under better circumstances."

Carl nodded. "Well, at least this time, my daughter is doing her summer internship at Tracy Enterprises London office."

"And no Tracys are involved this time, I hope," Daria joked. Her humor fell flat when both men looked at her grimly. "What?" she finally asked.

Gesturing towards where a pale Jeff Tracy stood with his PA, two security guards quietly keeping the man contained, Sanders explained.

"Mr. Tracy was on the phone with his son, Alan. The kid was about to move a company car that was in his father's parking spot and was with an employee -" Sanders consulted his notes before continuing. "A Lisa McKenna, when the explosion occurred. He had not been able to reach Alan since then."

Daria nodded, moving closer to Jeff, hoping to engage the man's attention from the desperate situation.

"NYFD said there may be a third person. Any clues on that?"

"JP?" Jeff mused absently. "Alan said he thought it was JP coming towards them just before the explosion occurred."

Carl check his data pad. "Um, Jeffery P. Horne, aka JP. Summer hire, parking garage attendant, honors student University of Illinois, Chicago. Majoring in chemistry, minor in engineering. Lives with one older sister, Brittany, a customer service supervisor for K-Mart. Brittany dropped out of college during her freshman year when their parents were killed in a car accident. Some idiot texting clipped them on an icy road. Good reviews on him so far and he requested an employee scholarship form today."

"I encouraged him to," Jeff said absently. "He seemed like a nice kid."

"Delgado!"

A cry from a firefighter drew Daria's attention. Recognizing Matt Lopez, her husband's old partner, she nodded.

"Tony just called out. He said they found them. Two live ones, one – well, we'll call the wagon for one."

"Did they say who?" Ann-Marie asked frantically.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Matt answered. "No clue."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ten minutes earlier…<strong>_

JP wasn't sure how long he was out of it, but eventually a painful hacking cough woke him. It took him a moment to realize the coughing was his own. Wiping his face with an equally sooty hand, JP looked around.

Through the rolling smoke, JP could make out two still figures up ahead. Forcing himself to his feet, JP moved closer to the inferno that had once been a car.

He spotted Lisa first. Bending down, JP went to check her pulse only to pull a hand back in dismay. Trying not to vomit at the sight of his blood-covered hand, JP realized that a piece of metal had torn through Lisa's throat. The only merciful thing he could consider was that she must have died instantly.

JP began to cough violently, his lungs tightening in a familiar feeling. He had suffered from asthma as a child and though he had pretty much out grown it, JP could still have problems on days of poor air quality.

"I guess - cough, cough – this counts as poor air quality," JP muttered, his eyes watering as he felt around for Jeff Tracy's son. What was the kid's name? He couldn't recall.

Suddenly, a flash of a memory came forward about a news story from the previous spring. Alan, Alan Tracy, Jeff Tracy's youngest son and how he had been hit by a car.

"Alan!"cough-cough "Alan Tracy!"

Then he heard it – a small, faint moan. Blinded by the smoke and dizzy from the heat, JP felt his way towards the sound, finally finding a bundle pressed against the wall.

Bending down, JP felt for a pulse once more, sighing in relief when he found one. "Alan – c'mon Alan, we gotta get out of here."

As the flames roared again and JP realized that the cars on the far end of the section were starting to show signs that the heat was getting to them, making it possible that they could go as well, he realized there was only one thing he could do.

Bending at the knees, JP carefully picked up Alan Tracy and started to carry him from the inferno. Sparing a regretful glance at where he knew Lisa's body lay, JP could hear his sister's words after they had buried their parents.

"Mourn when you must, but get living or join the dead. Life is for the living, Jeffy – now get living and treasure every minute of it."

"I hear you, Brit," JP sighed. "C'mon, Alan – let's get out of here."

* * *

><p>Tony Delgado moved gingerly through the smoky floors of the parking garage. Thanks to swift action by Tracy Enterprises security personnel, everyone outside of the blast zone had been evacuated from the parking structure and all entrances had been secured.<p>

"So," Bill Major asked, "as far as we know, there are two, maybe three people, in the blast zone and none were seen coming out?"

"Yep," Tony said grimly. He remembered from the last time seeing Alan Tracy during the bank robbery and could recall how fond Woody had been of the boy. For her sake, and the sake of his family, Tony hoped the kid was alright and just unable to get out of the area.

"Hey," Bill spoke again, "what was your ball and chain doing here?"

Shooting Bill a quick glare, Tony responded. "Daria – my wife, you misogynistic idiot – is an FBI agent. If this was a bombing – which all signs point to – it's domestic terrorism. That would be Federal. And since she is familiar with the Towers, considering she was the lead agent during the bank robbery last year, it's not surprising she was assigned to this."

"Didn't she just have a baby?"

"Eight weeks ago," Tony grinned. "She's been back to work for a couple of weeks now. My sister runs a home care center and she has Andy while we're at work. If we're not available in the evening, Mama picks him up. He's gonna be one spoiled kid if – she -"

Tony's voice trailed off as he realized he saw something through the hazy smoke. Picking up his pace, he ran up to the figures.

A young man, somewhere around 18-21, with what might be dirty blonde hair and pale blue eyes that were watering from the smoke, was struggling forward carrying a burden he could barely handle. In his arms was the limp form of Alan Tracy. The boy was a little taller than the last time Tony saw him and obviously injured. Blood smeared the golden blonde hair and ran across his face. Further injuries were harder to check and would have to wait until they got to safety.

"Give him to me," Tony brusquely commanded, pulling Alan's lax body into his own arms, gingerly supporting his neck and praying that he didn't have a back injury. "Bill, get O2 on him, stat." Glancing over at the other young man, he instructed his co-worker.

"Get him going. Get on the radio – find someone else with O2 and get a mask on this kid."

As if in response to Tony's order, a second paramedic team came up, sporting a portable oxygen tank. They quickly put a mask on JP and began to lead him out. Before they got far, Bill had grabbed his arm.

"Kid – there was a third person, a woman."

JP nodded and pulled the mask off. His breathing was harsh and rapid.

"She – she's back there," he gestured. "She's dead. God – she must be dead. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Tell them I'm sorry."

"Kid," Bill assured him as he put the mask back on, "you got nothing to apologize for. You probably saved this guy. Good job."

JP just ducked his head and allowed the others to lead him out, tears running down his smoke-smeared face.

Watching as Tony and the others led the victims to safety, Bill gestured to three more firemen and they continued in. They hadn't gotten far when they reached the blast zone.

As the three firemen began to put down suppressant and break windows not already blasted open by the explosion, Bill bent down to check on the third victim.

"Oh, yeah," he muttered. She was definitely dead. Looking up, he shook his head at the others. Pulling out his radio, Bill called down.

"Gonna need a body bag and a gurney. Got a DOA. Poor thing never had a chance."

* * *

><p>On the street below, Jeff leaned back against an emergency vehicle where the fire department had insisted he wait.<p>

Suddenly he spoke, startling Ann-Marie and Carl, who had chosen to stay with him.

"Am I a selfish person?"

"Selfish?" Ann-Marie said. "Jeff, you are one of the least selfish people I have ever known. What brought this up?"

"I know one person is dead. Am I selfish for praying it isn't Alan?" Jeff mused. "Lisa has family. I believe you said JP has family, right Carl?" When Carl nodded, Jeff continued.

"And yet all I can do is pray that Alan is alive. Is that selfish?"

"No," Carl said. "That's human."

At that moment, a flurry of movement at the entrance the Fire Department was using drew their attention. Moving forward, hesitantly at first, Jeff began to sprint when he saw a fireman carrying his youngest son from the smoldering garage.

Daria stepped forward, pressing a hand to his chest. "Mr. Tracy, let the professionals handle this. They've got him – you don't know how to handle this."

_"Yes I do!"_ Jeff wanted to scream. Didn't she know how many injured people he had helped save over the years with International Rescue? Then rationality swept over him, knowing that there was no way for the agent to know that.

"How is he?" Jeff asked weakly.

"We got a bad head injury," Tony admitted. "And we are taking full spinal precautions. Definitely in shock."

Even as Tony had given his brief assessment, Matt had finished speaking with the hospital while Tony had secured the backboard and neck brace. Hanging the requested IVs, Matt had nodded at Tony and the two men placed Alan on a gurney to load into the ambulance that was parked nearby.

"Mr. Tracy," Tony asked. "Do you want to come with us? Since Alan is a minor, we'll near a parent's consent to care."

"Yes," Jeff said gratefully, climbing into the ambulance. Without saying a word, he took the IVs and hung them correctly before securing a spot out of the way, yet as close to his son as possible. Looking back briefly, he caught Ann-Marie's eye.

Before he could say a word, Ann-Marie nodded. "I'll call the Island, Jeff. You just take care of Alan."

As the doors of the ambulance closed, Tony looked over at Matt, who looked bemused.

Both men had been surprised with the billionaire's ease of dealing with a transport.

Maybe he learned it in his astronaut training?

Matt turned from the departing ambulance to see Daria Delgado approach JP Horne.

"Jeffrey Horne?"

JP looked up, pale and shaky, still breathing harshly even with the oxygen mask.

"Jeff – or do I call you JP?" When the young man gave a weak shrug, Daria continued. "I need to ask you some questions about anything you may have seen or heard today. It could be relevant, even the smallest detail, so don't leave anything – damn!"

Daria broke off as the young man fell limply off the gurney they had been treating him on.

"Hook up a monitor," Matt called out as he firmly pushed Daria aside. Accepting that medical condition would trump her investigation – at least for the moment – Daria said nothing, watching as the young man's shirt was cut open. A heart monitor was quickly set up and, judging from the look on Matt's face, Daria was guessing it wasn't good.

Looking down, Daria noticed a small white tube on the ground. Bending down, she picked it up with a folder glove before cussing as she noticed what was on it.

"Shit," she groaned. Handing it to Matt, she frowned. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Damn," Matt muttered before looking over at the other paramedic. "Alert the hospital. Patient is apparently an asthmatic on Abuterol. He may be heading into cardiac arrest."

"Well," the other paramedic shrugged as he helped lift JP's gurney. "Let's get him to Presbyterian before that happens."

"Matt," Daria said before the ambulance doors could close. When Matt looked at her, she continued.

"Tell the hospital that I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll turn the scene over to Sanders."

"Will do, Daria."

As the ambulance followed the path of the first one, Daria sighed. One dead, two injured. She could only hope this was a grudge against Tracy. As bad as that was, a series of terrorist attacks would only be worse.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - So here is another chapter and Alan lives!**_

_**Alan - Yeah, but how badly am I hurt?**_

_**CC - I'll get to that.**_

_**Alan - You killed Lisa.**_

_**CC - Not for the first time, is it? Last time I killed her and almost everyone on the plane. This time it is just Lisa. (mutters) So far.**_

_**Alan - OK, most of your stories run around 30 chapters now, right? So if this is chapter eight you have a lot more planned for me right?**_

_**CC - Well, I also have to have Jean get married and Scott gets to be the Maid of Honor.**_

_**Gordon - Snicker. Hey, wait a second. You get to say that to Scott and get away with it?**_

_**CC - Yeah, well, I didn't put an order form for a bridesmaid dress on his bed. (brothers eye her strangely)**_

_**Alan - CC, you do realize that you write the stories, right?**_

_**CC - Yeah - well I can't control what Gordon does.**_

_**Gordon - You do know you are nuts, right?**_

_**CC - Maybe. But I can cook. Cheesecake?**_

_**Alan - Oh, this won't be good.**_

_**Gordon (with a full mouth) Yeff it is.**_

_**CC - See - I'm sane by comparison. And it has strawberries...**_

_**Alan - MMM. It is good.**_

_**CC - Eat up, Alan. (mutters) You'll need your stregnth. (grins) Enjoy! And review.**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Disclaimer - Not mine. A short bit to keep you going. ENJOY! <strong> _

**Chapter Nine**

_Just before the bomb blast…_

Mitchell began to play anxiously with the computer, checking on the parking garage again.

"Did the kid plant the bomb?" Flint asked as came out of the kitchen, munching on a sandwich.

"Yeah," Mitchell muttered. "But he didn't bother to call me and tell me that Jeff Tracy had arrived."

"He told you this morning," Flint shrugged. "Well, he told you that the big man was coming in today for that meeting."

"But he failed to mention that not only has Jeff Tracy arrived, but that he brought his youngest son with him," Mitchell said.

"Really?" Flint said. "Never seen the youngest kid. Found an old People article that showed a picture, but he was about two or three at the time."

Mitchell pointed to the screen. "That's him. Alan Shepard Tracy. Sixteen years old, heading into his Junior year in the fall at the prestigious Wharton Academy for Boys in Massachusetts. Run Track, honors student, popular, rich, good looking. Kid's got it all."

Flint eyed the stilled image of the teenager and leered. "Sure is a pretty boy, isn't he? I wouldn't mind grabbing a piece of that."

Glaring at Flint in distaste, Mitchell shook his head. "Stop drooling. If we could manage to grab the kid, he would be worth millions."

"But nobody says we have to return him unharmed – or at all," Flint grinned.

Clicking on the keys, Mitchell returned to the camera security system. "Well, that may be irrelevant." He pointed to the screen and watched as Alan Tracy and some blonde chick moved through the parking garage, heading towards where the bomb was planted.

"Soon," he hissed. "Jeff Tracy will wanna die, knowing it's his fault his baby is dead."

"Wait -" Flint said. "Is that JP?"

"Yep," Mitchell said. "Looks like the kid is trying to warn Baby Tracy. Well,' he grinned. "Can't let that happen."

"Push the trigger!" Flint screamed.

"Not until that door is open," Mitchell said coldly. "I want them dead. And if JP is betraying me, he needs to die as well."

As soon as the door slid open under the woman's hand, Mitchell coolly pressed the button, forcing the bomb to explode. Fire filled the screen even as icy satisfaction filled Mitchell's heart. There was no way Alan Tracy could have survived that.

"_Payback_," he thought, _"is a bitch, ain't it big man?"_

* * *

><p>Tony unloaded the ambulance to the waiting arms of the ER staff.<p>

"Any allergies?" a voice called out to Jeff.

Jeff nodded. "Yes, penicillin and walnuts; he's had bad episodes with both and carries an epi-pen."

"Any previous surgeries or medical conditions?"

"Yes, but nothing lately. He did have a head injury last June when he was hit by a car."

A nurse began to pull Alan to the side. "Sir, if you can start the paperwork over here, and give Alison the information of where your son was treated previously, we'll get the records."

Jeff nodded once more, taking the clipboard from the red-headed woman at the counter. "My daughter-in-law is also Alan's doctor. She can forward his records if you give me the contact information."

"That will work," the smiling Alison said. Seeing Jeff look over at the door, the woman pushed her glasses up and patted his arm.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Alison said. Seeing how strained Jeff was, she asked, "Do you need to call someone? His mother?"

Jeff began to focus on the paperwork. "My wife – Alan's mother – died more than a decade ago. I have someone calling my other sons and expect at least one of them to come soon."

"Any idea which one?" Alison smiled.

"Well," Jeff mused as he pulled out his insurance info to write it down. "If I had to guess, I would guess John. Because Emily will insist on being here and John won't let her out if his sight if he can help it. Scott is – away on business but either Gordon or Virgil will go get him. Hopefully," Jeff sighed, "this won't be so long that more than one brother will need to come out."

Frowning, Alison finished filling out the request for access to Alan's electronic medical records. "You seem way too used to this."

"Five sons?" Jeff sighed. "Trust me, I can fill out these forms in my sleep. I think I may have a few times."

Taking a seat, Jeff continued to fill out the paperwork that seemed a basic requirement for medical care in modern times. Hearing his cell phone beep an alert, Jeff discreetly pulled it out, knowing that the devices were banned in most areas of the hospital.

Reading the text, Jeff gave a small smile.

_Dad – John and I are getting on Tracy One now. Tell the hosp I sent the records. Give them my cell in case of questions. G went to get S. V is holding down ship, K has c/c. TBAG. - E* _

Leaning back, Jeff closed his eyes for a moment. John and Emily should be there soon. Thank God, because he needed his family. Even more, he needed to see his baby.

_Please, Lucy – be with our baby. He has to be alright. Please._

* * *

><p>Edward Eppes looked over the paperwork in front of him and handed it back to the Nurse Practitioner from the Cardiology Department for New York Presbyterian Hospital.<p>

"Thanks, Andrea," Edward said with a smile. "You've made this entire physician exchange a great experience. You ever want to transfer to Cedar Sinai, let me know."

"Hmm," Andrea mused. "Uproot two teenagers and tell my husband, who finally has tenure at his school, that we are moving all the way across the country? Nope – no how, no way."

Chuckling, Edward nodded when he heard the Code 9** being paged over the intercom. Hearing the page for a cardiac arrest incoming in the emergency room, Edward moved swiftly to the ED.

The next fifteen minutes left everyone at the hospital seeing why so many people held the young physician in awe. It was clear that he knew exactly what he was doing and Edward Eppes was doing everything he could to save the life of the young man in front of him. But in the end, even Dr. Eppes had to surrender to the inevitable.

Looking up at the clock, Edward sighed. "Time of death, fourteen twenty five, eastern standard time." Glancing at the still form in front of him, he sighed.

"Man, he's just a kid. Does he have family here?"

One of the nurses glanced over. "I believe he has family in the waiting room. Do you want me to check?"

"No," Edward sighed. "Just let me have the chart and I will head out there."

Taking the offered chart, Edward moved to the waiting room. He hated this part of the job.

* * *

><p>Mitchell looked around. "It won't take long for them to tie in JP with this apartment. We need to head out."<p>

Flint nodded. "Do you know where we are headed?"

Tossing a few things into a case, Mitchell shrugged. "I'll contact an associate. He should have a place we can go." Looking up, he suggested, "The nearest hospital is Presbyterian. See if JP survived, it looks like they took some live ones to the hospital. If JP lived, make sure he can't talk."

Grinning, Flint asked, "And if the Tracy kid survived?"

Pursing his lips, Mitchell shrugged again. "If you get a chance, grab him. If he's dead – get me a picture of the grieving father. Consider it an early Christmas present for me."

Flint quickly left Mitchell to packing their "essentials".

Once he was sure Flint had left, Mitchell pulled out the disposable phone he had acquired. "Hey, it's me. No, it's not going so great. The good news is Alan Tracy is probably dead. Yeah, I thought that would make your day. But I need to skip this place." He paused for a moment, listening, before continuing.

"Are they still in Europe? OK, I'll head over there shortly. Take care of yourself, kid."

Mitchell hung up the phone, smiling at the thought of the one person on earth he cared about, the one person he had come to realize he could always count on.

* * *

><p>John Tracy eyed his wife cautiously. Technically, he was supposed to be flying. And he thought that Gordon had been teasing when he spoke of how Emily had flown during the bank robbery. Tracy Two had needed a tune up afterwards.<p>

Now Tracy One might.

"Emily," John began slowly only for Emily to cut in.

"John Glen Tracy, move it," she said coldly. "We are getting to Alan as soon as possible."

"Emily," John tried again. "You do remember that the doctor wanted you to be as calm and as relaxed as possible, right?"

"John," Emily snapped as she grabbed her medical bag and laptop. "You do remember that they requested Alan's medical records, especially full scans?"

Watching Emily stomp – well, as well as a pregnant woman can stomp – down the steps to the waiting car (Ann-Marie really was a wonder), John sighed. He was worried about Alan, naturally, but Emily had taken to mothering Alan to an extreme at times. She was giving Scott a run for his money in mother-henning.

John smiled as he ran to catch up with his wife. She really was destined to be a Tracy.

Snatching the car keys from her, John kissed Emily's cheek. "Honey, calm down. We'll get there and I bet Alan will be fine."

Emily bit her lip. "John, I want to believe I am overreacting. But I have a bad feeling about this. You saw how Scott was. He always knows when something is wrong with Alan, and he was practically hysterical. I hope – I truly hope – that you are right. But I just think -"

Pulling the car into gear, John began the drive to the hospital. Unfortunately, he was suspecting that Emily was right.

* * *

><p>Edward moved into the packed waiting room. The ER of New York Presbyterian was the closest to Tracy Towers and even though only three people were caught in the actual blast, dozens of people had been injured in the resulting panic.<p>

"Edyth?" the cardiologist asked.

The frazzled nurse looked up from her stand. "Yes, Dr. Eppes?"

"Is the family here for the boy caught in the explosion?"

Edyth glanced around. "Oh, yes – right over there. His father is at station B."

Looking in the direction Edyth indicated, Edward hid a sigh. The man seemed nice enough…maybe even a bit familiar. Or maybe all parents were starting to look alike.

"Sir?"

Jeff stood up, the paperwork that had distracted him for a time no longer an option.

Jeff stood up, the paperwork that had distracted him for a time no longer an option.

"Your son was in the explosion at Tracy Towers?"

Jeff paled slightly, worrying over any past tense used with his son. He tried to speak but found that he couldn't so he simply nodded.

Edward grimly nodded in return. "Let's go talk over here," he said, gesturing to a small room.

Feeling faint, Jeff tried to move but was frozen. He didn't want to go with this man. This man wanted to tell him something bad, he knew it.

"Mr. Tracy?" Alison interrupted. Handing Jeff a data pad, she gave a small smile. "Dr. Wetherall is sending Alan for a MRI. We need you to give your authorization. Oh, and your son's records are here. And your daughter-in-law called and spoke with Dr.

Wetherall, who you'll meet once we have Alan in radiology. She also said to tell you she and - John? Yes, that was it, John, will be here shortly. My, she made good time, didn't she?"

Suddenly sensing the tension, the admin person looked between the two men. "Um, I'm sorry – did I interrupt? Doctor?"

Edward ignored the question and spoke directly to Jeff.

"Your son's name is Alan? Not Jeffrey?"

"I don't have a son named Jeff," Jeff said. "My name is Jeff but not Jeffery. It's Jefferson, not that anyone calls me that," he rambled before stilling.

"Wait – Jeffrey? Jeffery Horne? He's my employee. He was hurt at the same time as my son, is he alright?"

"Sir," Edward began. "I really can't discuss the young man's condition with someone who isn't family -"

"JP," Jeff explained, "doesn't have family locally. He is working for us for the summer, then heading back to Illinois. As I understand it from my people, JP has a sister back there. How urgently do we need to get her here?"

Edward sighed. "He didn't make it. Jeffrey Horne suffered massive cardiac arrest in the ambulance and was pronounced dead a few minutes ago."

Jeff sat quickly in shock. "But – but he walked out of the garage. I saw him!"

"Apparently," Edward explained, "he had asthma. Before the autopsy, this is pure speculation, but I'd wager the smoke inhalation caused his breathing to become increasingly difficult leading to too much stress on his cardiovascular system."

"God," Jeff whispered, his face in his hands. "He was just a kid. And Lisa – God, Lisa is dead, too."

Now it was Edward's chance to become pale. "Um, Lisa wouldn't be Lisa McKenna, would it?" Nah, there was no way it could be…

Looking up, Jeff frowned. "Yes – did you know her?"

Taking a step backwards, Edward paled. His mother's cousin, Shari, would be devastated. He needed to call his parents and give them a head's up. Hell, he would just call his father. Charlie Eppes still had plenty of government connections and could confirm the information faster than going through regular channels.

"I – I have to go. If I see Dr. Wetherall, I'll send him to you. Excuse me," Edward said as he quickly left.

"OK," Alison said, "am I the only one who thought that was weird?"

Whatever Jeff would have answered was cut off by a soft female voice calling out,

"Dad!"

Jeff stood up at the sight of Emily running towards him.

"Emily," he chastised. "You shouldn't be running."

"That's what I keep telling her," John grumbled as he came up behind his wife. Reaching out, he hugged his father.

"Any word on Alan?" John asked.

Jeff looked at Alison who was about to repeat what she had said earlier when a tall, ruggedly handsome man entered the area.

"Mr. Tracy?" he asked. When Jeff nodded, he held out a hand. "I'm Dr. Robert Wetherall – I'm here to talk to you about your son, Alan."

"Dr. Wetherall," Emily interrupted. "I'm Dr. Emily Tracy – we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Dr. Tracy. I've heard good things about you," Dr. Wetherall said. Emily looked at Jeff in confusion, only for her father-in-law to shake his head slightly. He hadn't mentioned Emily to the man.

"And you must be her husband, John, right?" When John nodded, Dr. Wetherall gave a tired smile. "Let's head to the family conference room and I can update you on Alan's condition."

* * *

><p>From a small cubicle, a middle-aged man emerged, his blonde hair now silver and his midnight blue eyes weary. He had been in a cab in front on Tracy Towers when an explosion had occurred, causing his driver to lose control. Luckily, his injuries were minor and he was being released.<p>

Just as he was pulling on his suit coat, he heard a woman cry out, "Dad!" and he looked up, smiling, in anticipation. But Emily ran past him to the arms of another man, who hugged her tightly. As another man joined them, Emily continued to hold onto the arm of the man she had called Dad in a gesture of comfort and support.

Watching them until they disappeared down a hallway, Gerald Haas gave a bittersweet smile, much fuller of pain than the earlier smile he had had. Emily even called another man "Dad". She was married, using her husband's name…It was as if she had never been his daughter. And she was pregnant, he had seen. His first grandchild– not that he would probably ever see the baby…

Climbing into another cab, Gerald tried to convince himself the pain he was feeling was only from the accident. But in his mind's eye, the image of a little girl with golden blonde hair and midnight blue eyes, running towards Jeff Tracy – and right past him – calling out, "Grandpa" with love in her voice caused more pain than a thousand fender-benders ever could.

* * *

><p>Jeff followed the doctor, who was speaking in hushed tones to Emily, to a small but comfy looking room. John quickly pulled out a seat for his wife before turning to make sure his father was also comfortable.<p>

"Dr. Wetherall," Jeff began, "how is my son?"

The ER doctor breathed deeply. "Mr. Tracy, Alan has yet to regain consciousness. Now, the good news is that he has no broken ribs and after some oxygen, his breathing cleared up nicely. His left wrist is dislocated but easily set and there is no nerve or muscle damage. If we discount the head trauma, Alan is a very lucky young man."

Emily frowned. "Dr. Wetherall, we can't discount the head trauma. Alan also hit his head pretty severely after the car accident. What are the preliminary results?"

Sighing again, Dr. Wetherall tapped his fingers on the table. "We did a full skull and spine series under the assumption he had hit the wall pretty hard. There was significant bruising along his shoulders and back. The x-rays of his neck, spine and shoulders were good but -"

"But the one of his head?" Emily asked, starting to chew on her thumbnail, alerting John that his wife was extremely worried.

Instead of saying anything, the doctor pulled out his data pad. Tapping on the screen, he turned it so Emily could look. Jeff and John both were nervous as Emily literally bit her thumb.

"The shadow here?" Emily asked softly, tapping the screen.

"Not sure," Wetherall said. "Which is why Alan is having an MRI."

Before anything else could be said, Dr. Wetherall's pager went off. Looking down at it, he sighed.

"The results are in and Alan is in his room. We'll meet the neurologist there."

It was a solemn quartet that left the room and headed towards the bank of elevators…heading for Alan.

* * *

><p><em><strong>* Dad – John and I are getting on Tracy One now. Tell the hosp I sent the records. Give them my cell in case of questions. G(ordon) went to get S(cott). V(irgil) is holding down ship, K(ate) has cc (command and control). TBAG. Thunderbirds are go - E(mily)**_

_****Not sure what the code is for cardiac emergency at NY Presbyterian Hospital. But it's Code 9 at the hospital I work at.**_

_**And what story was Dr. Wetherall first in? Oh, and before anyone says anything - the whole theme of six degrees is running through the whole story, which is why Emily's father just happens to be there. It will not be the first coincident. Makes it fun for me. - CC**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - not mine. But there is a rumor of a backroom auction...Maybe soon.**_

_**Oh, and I am not a medical expert. My training is a combination of too many afternoons watching Emergency and reading, plus a steady use of Wikipedia.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

On the fifth floor, the elevator doors opened and the Tracys followed Dr. Wetherall to wing where they were provided with special security badges. The physician explained as forms were completed, "This is the so-called "celebrity" wing. High profile people, some famous, a few infamous…As long as they don't need specialized care or it is care that can be administered here, it's easier to keep one wing media-free than all of them."

Remembering the difficulties they had with the media after Gordon's accident, Jeff and John grimly nodded. Emily had encountered similar wings at Cedar Sinai in Los Angeles and likewise thought nothing of it except some relief that Alan would be able to recover in some degree of peace. But all of them hoped Alan could go home soon, where they could truly keep him safe.

Dr, Wetherall was leading them down the hall, speaking over his shoulder. "Alan is in room 517, all of the rooms in this wing are private and -"

Whatever he would have said next ended when a slender African-American doctor came out of a room near the nurses' station. Looking up, she nodded at Dr. Wetherall.

"So, Robert," she said in a melodious voice, traces of something tropical running through the tones, "is this our patient's family?"

Nodding, Dr. Wetherall made introduction quickly. "This is Alan's father, Jeff Tracy, his brother, John, and his doctor-slash-sister-in-law, Dr. Emily Tracy."

"Emily Tracy?" the other woman frowned before smiling. "Oh, yes – the young doctor with the ambitious plan? Before you leave, I would like to speak with you about possibly volunteering for your program. Getting premium medical care to remote areas is a wonderful idea. My own family was blessed by a doctor of such compassion, a Dr. Daniel Hebert. When we came to this country, we lived in upstate New Hampshire and my mother's life was saved by Dr. Hebert."

Emily smiled sadly. "Yes, my grandfather was a good man."

Everyone except John was startled by that revelation but the neurologist recovered quickest.

"Then we must make sure excellent care is given to your little brother. And I am not surprised to find that you are kin with Dr. Hebert."

"What were the results of the MRI," Dr. Wetherall returned the focus of the conversation to the original subject.

"Of course," the woman said before looking at Jeff. "I'm Dr. Leola Simone. I am sure I can go into details but how about I make this simple. The good news is, I do not believe Alan will need surgery."

"The shadow on the x-ray?" Emily asked.

"Alan does have a simple skull fracture," Dr. Simone admitted. "And there appears to be a small clot in his head. It does not appear life threatening at this time and surgery could do more harm than good."

"Blood thinners?" was Emily's rapid-fire response.

"We'll prescribe heparin," Dr Simone said. "That should remove the clot and relieve any pressure the clot is causing."

"When can we take Alan home?" Jeff asked.

"I do not know if that is such a good idea," Dr. Simone began only for Jeff to interrupt.

"Doctor, we have a full infirmary and Emily is an emergency medical specialist. All of my sons are medic trained and my son Virgil's fiancée is a former paramedic who is almost finished her training to become a Physician's Assistant. I can have Alan to Mercy General in Auckland in about fifteen minutes if need be."

Dr. Wetherall looked at Dr Simone who shook her head.

"Let us see how Alan is doing in a day or so. He has not even regained consciousness yet. I can not make an accurate assessment until then." Looking carefully at the Tracy men, Dr. Simone nodded.

"Now, I believe you would like to see Alan, yes?"

With trepidation, the family followed her into the room…

* * *

><p>Charles Edward Eppes Jr – who had always gone by his middle name to avoid any confusion with his famous father – went outside the hospital to make a phone call. Oddly enough, if Lisa McKenna had survived the blast at Tracy Towers, privacy laws and practices would have forbidden that he place the call. But since he had heard the information second hand, it was – technically – permissible.<p>

"_Hello?" _

"Hey Dad," Edward breathed out.

"_Edward! How's New York? Are you coming home soon?"_

"I'm still looking at coming back next week, Dad," Edward assured his father. "It's been fun working with the Columbia Med School but – I do miss LA. At the same time, I can see why you, Mom and Ben love teaching so much. I may have to look into doing something like that back home."

"_Sounds great – but that isn't why you called. I can hear it in your voice."_

"Channeling Grandpa again, are we?" Edward chuckled before sobering. "Dad – have you been watching the news? The explosion at Tracy Towers?"

"_I caught it briefly in my office between classes," _Charlie confirmed. _"None of the Tracys were hurt were they?"_

Edward skirted around the question, having deducted from his aborted conversation in the ER that "Jeff" was Jeff Tracy and the other injured boy was his youngest son, Alan. Kate's e-mails detailing meeting the family had been full of humor and joy, with Edward's closest cousin quasi-joking that she was dating Scott because she liked his little brother so much and wanted to be Alan's big sister. But because of how he learned of Alan's injuries, Edward could say nothing to his father. Even what he was about to do was a gray area.

"I don't know, Dad," Edward said. "But there is at least one person dead and I wanted you to have a head's up. Dad – it was Lisa."

"_Lisa?" _Charlie puzzled out loud before gasping. _"God – not little Lisa McKenna?"_

"Yeah, Dad – that Lisa."

Charlie sighed deeply. _"I'll make some calls and get an official confirmation before I tell your mother. William hasn't any classes this afternoon and I am fairly sure he is working from home. Shari's accounting business is strictly a home business these days so she should be there as well. I don't want them hearing this from strangers."_

"It will be best coming from you, Dad," Edwards said.

There was silence for a moment, making Edward wondering if he had lost the connection before Charlie Eppes spoke again.

"_Trust me, Edward – there is no best way to hear something has happened to your child."_

"I guess not," Edward admitted. "To change the subject – have you heard from Kate?"

"_She's safe," _Charlie admitted. _"She's keeping busy and misses talking to everyone. But the Bureau is afraid of e-mails or cell phones being traced so for now, we'll have to do a wait and see."_

"Well, hopefully they catch Mitchell and Flint soon," Edward said. "Kate was supposed to be on vacation the middle of July and she was planning on spending it in Los Angeles. I just about had her talked into Disney Land."

Charlie gave a small chuckle. _"Last time you tried that, the two of you ended up doing Alcatraz. And the time before, it was a Napa Valley wine tasting tour."_

"Yeah, well," Edward grumbled, sounding more like the little boy Charlie had read to than a nationally respected cardiovascular-thoracic surgeon. "I'm due to win an argument with our Agent Eppes."

"_Against Kate? Good luck with that one, son. Good luck with that one."_

Ending the call, Edward tucked his phone back into his lab coat and was about to turn around when a rough hand grabbed his arm…

* * *

><p>Devon Flint walked towards the entrance of New York Presbyterian Hospital before detouring away for the doors at the sight of three NYPD officers talking to a woman with thick brown hair and sunglasses, an FBI vest declaring her status.<p>

"_Another bitch who doesn't know her place,_" he angrily thought as he watched as the male police officers taking orders from the agent. But his harsh thought faded as he realized a doctor was talking on a phone. Hoping to use the man's distraction to his advantaged, Flint wondered if he could slip into the facility with the physician.

After a minute, Flint thought he heard his name yet that couldn't be right, could it? But as the man continued to talk, Flint stilled when man starting to talk about "Kate" before saying "Agent Eppes". _"No way," _Flint mused in disbelief. Then he saw the badge:

**VISTITNG PHYSICIAN: C. Edward Eppes, MD, FACC**

And as much as he wanted the money Mitchell kept talking about, Flint wanted revenge more, so he found himself grabbing the knife in his pocket with one hand even as the other reached out to grab the doctor's arm…

* * *

><p>Jeff moved into the room, his eyes drawn instantly to the still figure on the bed. Blindly grabbing at a chair, Jeff dropped heavily into the seat, grabbing quickly at Alan's hand, careful not to dislodge the IV.<p>

"Oh, Allie," he whispered, bringing the cool hand to his cheek. "I just can't seem to keep you safe. I'm sorry."

"Dad," John said gently, his hand on his father's shoulder. "None of this is your fault."

"John," Jeff said sadly, "when your baby is born, you'll realize that anything bad that happens to your child is something you feel you should be able to prevent. But before you declare me innocent think of what has happened to Alan over the last year."

John glanced over his shoulder to where Emily was in earnest discussion with the other doctors. "Dad," he whispered, "the Hood wasn't your fault."

"I chose to leave him behind, John," Jeff said fiercely.

"And if you hadn't," John hissed. "You, almost a hundred innocent slaves of the Hood and Scott would have died. He chose to head further into the tunnels to try and escape the authorities. Hell, his illegal mine was so full of safety violations, it was amazing we saved everyone else!"

"And later? Alan being hit by a car?" Jeff asked.

"How was that your fault, Dad?"

"Did you forget, John that it was what I said to Alan that made him go running that night?" Jeff said, his heart clearly breaking.

"So I guess Looney Lainie poisoning Alan is my fault, huh?" John sniped.

Jeff looked up in surprise. "How was that your fault?"

"I pissed her off," John shrugged. "Or maybe that was more Virgil's fault."

Shaking his head, Jeff disagreed. "No, John – Lainie was a deeply disturbed young woman. It was in no way your fault."

"And the Hood was a murderous creep and Barry was a drunken idiot," John said firmly.

"Fine," Jeff agreed sadly. "But a bomb in the garage of Tracy Towers?"

"Dad, people who set bombs generally don't care about innocent victims. The only ones responsible for Alan's injuries are the ones who set the bomb."

Jeff nodded, not entirely convinced. "Have you called the Island yet?"

John glanced at his watch. "I wanted to wait until Scott got home and maybe we would know something."

Patting John's arm, Jeff said, "Well, you should call. They should be home by now."

Nodding, John began to pull out his cell before Emily's voice broke in.

"Nope, Starman. No cell phones in the hospital; outside."

"Yes, m'lady, as you will, m'lady," John said, bowing slightly.

John grabbed the door, tapping the new communicator watches Brains was having them test. Jeff nodded, indicating he would contact John if anything changed.

"I'll be back as soon as the gang lets me," John said after looking over at his baby brother one more time. "Not that I'll have much to say yet."

"Just keep Scott calm," Emily said. "I can only handle one Tracy down at a time."

* * *

><p>"Eppes?" Flint hissed as he pressed the knife against Edward's stomach. With his free hand, he snagged the cell phone from Edward's hand, scrolling through the contacts. "Kate? That wouldn't be Kate Eppes, would it? The little bitch who tried to kill me and sent me to prison?"<p>

"Flint," Edward hissed, furious that the man who had gone after his little cousin was in front of him. In his eyes, this monster was the reason why Kate had left LA. As the two youngest Eppes, Edward and Kate had always been very close, more like brother and sister than cousins. With how over-protective the twins were (Kate usually said over-bearing) towards their sister, Edward was the one Kate would usually turn to.

Edward knew what this man – no, this _monster_ – had done to his victims. That he had tried to do that to Kate, that he had wanted to Emily, the woman Edward still cared deeply for – Never had Edward wished that he was more like his uncle, a fighter, and less like his gentle father.

"Where is she?" Flint hissed. "Where is that bitch?"

"Screw you, you son of a bitch," Edward snapped. "Kate's safe – you aren't getting anywhere near her."

"Will little Katie come out to play if I have you?" Flint mused as he pressed the knife harder against Edward's stomach.

"You think I'll go with you?" Edward growled. "I would die before I let you get to my little cousin."

Flint dropped the doctor's phone, stomping on it and grabbing Edward's throat, raising the knife to just below his hand.

"I can arrange that."

* * *

><p>Alan felt strangely detached. He knew he was in pain. But his head…God his head was killing him.<p>

_Man, I just want to sleep. Maybe I'll feel better when I wake up. Rest…yeah, I need some rest._

Then he heard it – the voice that had offered him comfort since he was a little boy.

"_I'm here, Allie. Dad is here. I won't let anyone hurt you, Sprout. But you're scaring me. Please, Alan – wake up. Please."_

Alan wanted to ignore the pain, to keep sleeping. But his Dad was hurting. He couldn't let any member of his family feel pain if he could avoid it. Alan could feel his father's hand, the pressure where Jeff Tracy still wore his wedding band, more than a decade after Lucy Tracy's death.

Somewhere in the dark well of pain Alan was still in, he forced himself to push towards his father and moved his hand…

* * *

><p>John pulled the phone out as he exited the building, his finger ghosting above the keypad, ready to hit the memory dial for home when he saw the man holding a knife to some doctor's throat.<p>

"Hey!" he yelled out, sprinting towards the pair.

Flint twisted away, the knife cutting into Edward's arm as he stepped back. With the bloody knife held out in front of him, he made a menacing gesture towards John. "Back off, you skinny little ass. This is none of your business."

"I'm making it my business," John snapped, stepping between the nut job and his victim. When Flint took a swipe at John, the second Tracy son quickly thrust out his hand, viciously twisting the killer's wrist until Flint cried out in pain, dropping the knife.

Seeing the FBI agent from earlier run out of the hospital, her gun drawn, Flint kicked out at John, making him step back. Once John's grip had loosened, Flint took off running.

John watched as Agent Delgado directed two NYPD officers who had followed her out of the building to pursue the suspect. Daria herself stood protectively between the men and any possible threat as John bent down to examine Edward's arm.

Edward huffed out, wincing as the blonde man pressed a handkerchief against his wound. "You a doctor," he asked.

"Nope," John said. "And I don't play one on television. But I do know basic care. So let's get you inside where a real doctor can stitch you up."

"I am a doctor," Edward said crossly.

"And physician heal yourself may sound good, but it's hard to stitch one handed."

"My badge," Edward said, still dazed even as John and Daria helped him to stand.

John glanced around. "I can't see it. Did you leave it inside?"

Edward blinked in pain and confusion. "I guess I must have."

* * *

><p>Six blocks away, Devon Flint stopped, leaning against a wall even as he pulled out the badge he had snagged from the doctor's coat. Kate Eppes had family. She had weaknesses. If he couldn't get to her, maybe he could destroy her world, just like she had destroyed his…<p>

* * *

><p>Alan pushed himself closer to being awake. It hurt, <em>God, it hurt – <em>But he couldn't hurt his father any more than the man was hurting. His pain, his hurt was irrelevant when it came to family…

"Dad," Alan forced out of his paper dry throat.

"Alan," Jeff called out, tears clogged his throat, as he brushed his son's face gently. "Alan, please open your eyes."

Blinking slowly as he woke, Alan suddenly clutched at his father's hand. "Dad!" Alan gasped, his breathing suddenly harsh and panicky.

"Alan," Emily said as she moved over to the bed, glancing over her shoulder at the other two doctors. "Alan, sweetie – are you in any pain?"

The youngest Tracy son began to hyperventilate, even as his hands frantically grabbed at his father. He ignored his sister-in-law, turning to Jeff, tears filling his eyes.

"Dad," Alan gasped. "Dad, I can't see."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN - OK, how is that for a faste update? I hope you can appreciate..._**

**_Alan - Oh No, You Didn't!_**

**_CC - Alan_****_, Alan, Alan - You know me by now. There isn't much I won't dare to do._**

**_Alan - But I'm blind!_**

**_CC - Yep._**

**_Alan - you aren't supposed to do things like that._**

**_CC (scoffs) Allie, Allie - you should know by now, that there isn't a lot that I wouldn't do._**

**_Alan - But...But..._**

**_CC - Alan, I get to let you be smothered by your family, give you moments of teen agnst without you being a brat. I mean - who could blame you?\_**

**_Alan - Oh, of course. Goodness of your heart and everything._**

**_CC - C'mon - I made chocolate filled cupcakes for my daughter's school bake sale. Want one?_**

**_Alan - Chocolate? (CC nods) OK, sounds good. (Takes a bite) Pretty good. Say what would you feed me if I was killed?_**

**_CC - PFFT. Alan, I wouldn't feed you anything because 1) you would be dead and 2) I don't write death fics. But probably crumb cake, why?_**

**_Alan - Just checking._**

**_CC - More soon, folks._**


	11. Chapter 11

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Don't own. 'Nuff said.**_

* * *

><p>Chapter Eleven<p>

Seeing the devastated look on her father-in-law's face at Alan's frantic pronouncement, Emily sat on the other side of the bed and gently stroked one of Alan's arms, drawing the teenager's attention.

"Alan," Emily said gently. "We need you to calm down. Can you do that for me, Sweetie?"

Rocking slightly, still obviously terrified, Alan nodded. "Yes," he breathed out, trying desperately to calm himself. Jeff and Emily continued to hold onto him, speaking in soft, soothing tones.

Glancing back at the other doctors, Emily received their nods of approval before taking the lead.

"Sweetie, you've been in an accident," Emily said, deciding not to use the word "explosion" in order to allow Alan to recall the incident on his own.

"I was?" Alan asked, obviously confused. "The last thing I remember is flying to New York with Dad…Dad! Dad, are you OK? Did I crash the plane?"

"The plane didn't crash, Alan," Jeff said softly. "And I wasn't with you when you got hurt. I was finishing up the meeting."

"I – I was supposed to wait in the apartment," Alan recalled. "Did I fall or something?"

"It's best if you recall things on your own, Alan," Dr. Wetherall began, stopping when Alan became panicky at the strange voice.

"Alan, it's alright," Emily said. "This is Dr. Wetherall, he was the doctor who has been treating you here at the hospital. You're in New York Presbyterian."

"You worked with the program here while in pre-med, right, Em," Alan recalled.

Emily nodded before realizing Alan couldn't see that. "Yes, Sweetie. I did my pre-med at Columbia University."

"I've been here several years," Dr. Wetherall mentioned. "I can't recall you being here."

Alan gave a watery chuckle. "Well, she graduated Columbia when she was fifteen."

"Seriously?" Wetherall commented, surprised. When Emily just shrugged and smiled shyly, he shook his head. Obviously, Dr. Tracy was as smart as he had been told.

"Alan," Dr. Simone stepped forward. "Alan, I am Dr. Simone. I am a neurologist."

"So I hit my head," Alan correctly surmised. "Concussion or skull fracture?"

Surprised, Dr. Simone looked at Emily with a raised eyebrow before answering Alan. "A mild skull fracture."

"But a cracked skull is still a cracked skull," Alan said morosely. "Is that why I can't see? Is – is that why I'm blind?"

"Sweetie," Emily said as she rubbed his hand between hers. "There's a blood clot in your head. It may be causing some pressure up there."

"Will – will I need surgery?" Alan asked, obviously scared at the prospect.

"We do not think so," Dr. Simone replied. "Now, we will monitor you for a day or so, then, if your family has the facilities they assure me they do, I believe you can be discharged to home. But there must be great caution taken. Not only from the head injury. In order to try and dissolve the clot without surgery, we will be placing you on blood thinners -"

Alan interrupted. "So minor bruising or cuts have the potential to be serious, even life-threatening, right?"

Dr. Simone smiled. "Your sister-in-law is teaching you a bit about medicine, hmm?"

Leaning towards his father, Alan just shrugged, trying – and failing – not to wince at the pain the movement caused. Actually, Alan had learned a lot about emergency medicine from Virgil. Lately, Emily and Sarah Jane had been teaching him as well but most of what he knew was from watching his middle brother at work.

Just then, a nurse stuck her head in the room. "Dr. Wetherall – you're needed in the ED. Oh, and Dr. Tracy, um…Your husband is in there as well."

"What?" came from all three Tracys, with Emily leaping off the bed – as well as a pregnant woman could – a hurrying down the hall.

"I am sure your brother is fine, Alan," Dr. Simone said in a comforting tone when she saw the teen's distraught expression. "Dr. Wetherall is heading down there. In the meanwhile, I would like to run some more tests and get you started on the blood thinners. We need to test several times before I would be comfortable letting you go home. So rest, and I will set up the tests."

Once he heard the door shut, Alan leaned back into his father's embrace. "Dad?" Alan whispered.

"Yes, Alan," Jeff said gently.

"I'm scared," Alan admitted tearfully, the only person he would really admit that to being the one who was now holding him.

"So am I, Allie," Jeff admitted. "So am I."

As Alan broke into sobs, his father continued to hold him, almost grateful that his son couldn't see the tears pouring down his own face.

* * *

><p>"You Tracys," Daria snapped. "Can't you stay out of trouble when you come to New York? I have enough work on my plate."<p>

"Hey," John protested. "A knife-wielding mad-man was so not on my agenda today."

Dr. Wetherall came in a side entrance to the treatment area, following a nurse who led him back to where the nut-job's victim was lying down, mildly sedated. Emily Tracy came in on his heels and threw herself at her husband.

"John," she gasped. "Are you alright? Where are you hurt? Why aren't you lying down?"

"Um, Emmy," John said, "I wasn't the one hurt."

"Your husband decided to put himself between some nut case with a knife and his would-be vic," Daria snapped.

"Hey, I disarmed the jerk and protected the guy, right?" John protested.

"You're not supposed to be doing that!" Emily growled. "You are the calm, rational one. Not the hot-head, not the impulsive one…"

"I was very calm and rational," John argued. "I calmly stood there and rationalized that I could get the knife away from him."

Emily was about to say something when a wave of vertigo nearly knocked her off her feet.

"Emmy," John said frantically as he grabbed her, gently setting her into a chair.

"I'm fine John," Emily protested weakly. Glancing up at Daria, she gave a small smile.

"Pregnancy induced hypertension," Emily shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, right," Daria said. "Had me on bed rest for three weeks because of it. I know how dangerous that can be."

Before Emily could say anything, a familiar voice drew her attention.

"I'm fine, Robert," Edward Eppes said as he started to pull his lab coat back on. Seeing the blood on the sleeve, he set it aside. "Thanks to that, um – well, whoever he was…"

Edward stilled and then moved forward. "And there's my hero. Are you a cop or something?" Edward asked with a grin

"No, he's not," Emily said in a surprised voice.

Edward whipped around, stunned to see Emily sitting there. "Emily, Emily Haas?" he said in shock.

"Actually," Emily said as she stood, clutching her husband's hand, "it's Emily Tracy now."

Seeing the woman he still had deep feelings for holding hands with the man who had probably saved his life robbed Edward of all intelligent speech. Trying to recover, he looked Emily over and smiled sadly.

"I always knew you'd look beautiful like this," Edward murmured.

Seeing confusion on her husband's face, Emily squeezed John's hand and smiled. "John, this is Dr. Edward Eppes. Edward, this is my husband, John Tracy."

Edward nodded, holding out his hand. "Congratulations, Mr. Tracy – you're a lucky man."

"Thank you," John said calmly. "But you should call me John. With the way things are going between your cousin and my brother, we could end up as family soon."

"Family," Emily gasped. "John, Alan is awake."

"He's awake," John said in delight. "C'mon – I want to see him."

Leaving the room, Emily grasped John's hand. "Starman – we need to talk before we head up there. There's something you need to know."

* * *

><p>"Why haven't they called?" Scott asked for what had to be the hundredth time since his brothers had retrieved him from the space station. In the end, both Virgil and Gordon had gone up to the space station, figuring it could take both of them to keep Scott calm until they got back to Earth.<p>

"Well," Gordon said in a pseudo-cheerful tone, "you know the old saying – no news is good news."

"Or not," the middle Tracy brother said.

Virgil had stopped dead in his tracks at that moment, seeing Kate standing at the entrance to Three's silo. The tears filling her dark brown eyes looked strange to the brothers. Kate's eyes truly were a reflection of her soul, whether showing joy, anger or love. But at that moment there was a level of heart-break in them that no one on the Island had ever seen.

Scott moved quickly to her side, pulling her in close. "Katie?" he whispered. "What is it?"

"A-Alan is in the hospital," Kate responded, "New York Presbyterian. Your dad's PA – Ann-Marie? – called. The hospital won't give out information -"

"The hell they won't," Scott growled, ready to stalk off until Virgil put a hand on his arm.

"If Dad is there -" he broke off, turning to Kate. "Dad is with him right? And not…Not as a fellow patient, right?"

When Kate nodded, Virgil continued. "They'll only talk to Dad. And he or Johnny will call us soon. Did you talk to Emily and John?"

Kate nodded again. "They are on their way to the hospital. Emily is already in touch with the doctors treating Alan. She said she'll have John call once they know Alan's condition. But he's alive, so-"

"OK," Scott sighed. "Let me go change and then we'll wait on a call."

When Kate didn't follow the brothers, the trio turned back to her. "Katie?" Scott questioned. "What else is there?"

Kate sucked in her breath. "Three people were caught in the explosion. Some summer hire, he went to the hospital along with Alan. But the third person was killed in the initial blast." Turning slowly to face Gordon, Kate took a step forward.

"Gordon, Lisa is dead. She 's gone."

Gordon became deathly pale, and he felt like he had been swimming against the ocean current for days, numb and beaten. He didn't even react when his brothers led him back to the house, blindly changing before following his family back to their father's office to do the hardest thing of all.

Wait.

* * *

><p>John looked down at Emily's face, concerned about the stress she had to be under. A part of him was also a bit jealous. He had known about Edward Eppes but seeing the good looking man, who Emily had once been involved with, bothered him on some level. Especially as it was clear that the physician still had feelings for Emily, even after she had married and was carrying her husband's baby. Had the good Dr. Eppes once pictured Emily as Emily Eppes, the mother of his children?<p>

"_OK, out of all the people I have to save is my wife's ex-boyfriend who just happens to be the cousin of the woman who will probably marry my older brother," _John thought. _"What is this – a game of six degrees of Kevin Bacon?"_

"John?" Emily looked at him in concern. "John, I have to tell you something before we go upstairs."

"OK, Emmy," John said. "What is it? I want to see Alan."

"I know," Emily agreed. "It's about Alan. Now this is probably just temporary. There needs to be more tests run, of course. But you need -"

"I need to see Alan," John interrupted before sighing. "Sorry, Emmy," he apologized.

"Like I was saying," Emily continued. "You need to know something before going in. You heard us discussing the blood clot, right? That it was significant but not an immediate threat and that blood thinners should be the safer route than surgery." When John nodded in agreement, Emily went on.

"Well, a clot such as Alan's, combined with the fracture of the skull, can cause cranial pressure, leading to complications."

"In English, Emmy," John said in frustration. "What's wrong with the Sprout?"

"Alan is blind, John," Emily said gently.

John bent his head and started to turn away until Emily grabbed his arm and forced him to face her. The tears running down his face broke her heart and she pulled her husband into her arms.

"Let it out, John," she whispered, feeling her usually stoic spouse break down in her embrace. "I'll be right here, Starman." Feeling the baby kick, Emily smiled as she whispered, "We both are."

John had felt his unborn child move in his wife's belly and he smiled. Reaching down a hand, he pressed it against Emily's stomach and whispered, "It'll be ok, baby. It will be ok."

* * *

><p>Flint pulled the car he had stolen a few blocks from the hospital into an alley behind the building where they had been staying. Pulling out the disposable cell phone they had acquired in, he thought, Des Moines, Flint called Mitchell.<p>

"Mitchell?" he asked as soon as the phone was picked up on the other end.

"_Flint? Where the hell are you? They are running an alert of you being in the area."_

"I'm in an alley behind the building. Run everything down here and we'll get going."

"_I'm gonna wanna a full story once we get to our new safe house, got it?"_

"Yeah, yeah," Flint growled. "Let's get moving. Like you said – once they tie the kid in to the attack, the cops will be all over the place."

Within ten minutes, essentials had been loaded into the stolen vehicle and the men were driving away, set to plot a new way to cause as much mayhem as possible.

* * *

><p>John stood outside of his little brother's room, forcing himself to breath slow and steady.<p>

Placing a delicate hand on her husband's arm, Emily gave an encouraging smile. "Remember John – stay positive. Now while nothing is set in stone, the chances that this is temporary are very good. You need to be strong for Alan."

"Emmy," John smiled sadly. "I've been doing that my whole life. Nothing new there." Kissing her gently, John took his wife's hand and together they went into Alan's room.

Alan was lying in their father's arms, his eyes closed but the trails of tears staining his face. John forced the lump that had taken residence in his throat away as he sat on the other side of the bed.

Jeff looked up from his baby's face when he felt the bed take on additional weight. He gave a weak smile to John but before he could say anything, his second son began to speak.

"Hey, Sprout," John said softly.

"I'd like to say nice to see you John," Alan mumbled without opening his eyes. "But that isn't happening at the moment."

"Alan," John sighed as he brushed a hand over his younger brother head. "It will be alright. Emily said there is a really good chance that you'll get your sight back when the swelling and pressure go down."

"But by saying chance," Alan countered, opening his eyes which looked at a point beyond his brother's shoulder since he couldn't focus on John. "You are admitting that I may be blind for the rest of my life. So much for flying a rocket, huh?"

"Excuse me?" a new voice added.

The Tracys were shocked to realize that while they had been so caught up in the drama of the latest twist in their life, that someone had entered the room. Emily was the first to react.

"Edward," she said pleasantly. "Can I help you?"

Edward Eppes stepped forward. "Hi Alan – you don't know me, but I'm Dr. Edward Eppes, Kate's cousin. She mentioned you almost as often as Scott in her e-mails."

"She does?" Alan said, brightening for the first time since waking up.

"Yep," Edward said cheerfully.

Alan suddenly sat up. "Wait a sec – if you're Kate's cousin, that would make you Professor Eppes son, right?"

Edward chuckled. "You got it, kiddo. Uncle Don mentioned that you are a huge fan of Dad's books. His "Everything is Math" series has been a huge seller. Dad wants to meet you so he can give you a personalized copy of his latest book."

Closing his eyes, Alan curled back into his father's chest. "Think it has a Braille edition?"

"Not sure," Edward said evenly. "But it does have a cd version read by the author. Dad is really very animated when talking. His classes love him." Turning to John, he put his hand out.

"I just wanted to say thanks for the assist again. If I can do anything for you, let me know." As he shook John's hand, he gently spoke to Alan.

"You have quite the hero here for a brother. Saved me from a knife-wielding nut job."

"Are you OK, John?" Alan asked softly.

"Not a scratch, Sprout," John assured him.

"Don't call me Sprout," Alan grumbled, making the others smile. If Alan was arguing, he was healing.

"Well," John mused as he stood. "Now I have something really scary to do. I still have to call home."

"Good luck with that," Emily said cheerfully.

"Thanks," John sighed. "Sure I can't get you to do it?"

Emily just grinned and shook her head.

Edward and John left the room together, heading for the elevators. "Why," Edward asked, "is calling home so bad?"

"Kate's talked about her father," John said softly. Edward nodded, so John continued.

"You know how they say girls marry a guy who reminds them of their father?"

Edward stood stock still. "No – way. Don Eppes 2.0?"

"Or worse," John cheerfully countered.

Shaking his head, Edward entered the now open elevator in silence. He may have envied John Tracy for his wife and unborn child, but not for a brother cut from the same cloth as Don Eppes. His uncle's over-protectiveness and fierce nature was a thing of legend. Heaven could only help someone who had threatened his family.

And even that was questionable at best.

* * *

><p>Scott Tracy was a strong person, a honest person, an honorable person…<p>

He was not a patient person.

So when his second brother called, Scott had to fight his baser instincts to yell at John.

And when John told the gathered Tracys – and honorary Tracys in the Kyranos, Hackenbackers, Sarah Jane and Kate – that Alan was alive he was thrilled. But by the time John had finished telling them what else was happening, Scott was silent – and a silent Scott was never a good thing.

Shortly after John signed off, promising to call back with an update as soon as he could, Virgil and Sarah Jane took Gordon outside for a long talk, while the Kyranos and Brains left to try and comfort their children, both of whom were devastated by what was happening to Alan.

Scott remained at the windows of his father's office, staring at the rolling surf. He had always thought the bright blue waves had reminded his of his youngest brother's eyes, not only for the color but for the sparkle and wonder that had shone from their depth. It broke Scott's heart to think of looking into those eyes and not seeing the light that had always made them so beautiful.

He knew the others had left yet he could sense Kate was still there. So it was no surprise to him when he felt her arms encircle him from behind. Since Kate was almost as tall as Scott – as tall with heels – he was also not surprised to feel the weight of her head on his shoulder, a few stray curls tickling the side of his throat.

"I didn't protect my baby," Scott said softly. "I'm supposed to protect him."

Kate smiled. Scott really was a lot like her dad.

"My dad said that," Kate admitted. "After I was shot."

"Which time?" Scott asked wryly, knowing that Kate had also been shot last December by Jackson Mitchell.

Kate chuckled. "Last year he asked me if I had killed Mitchell. I told him no, that I knew just shooting him would create enough paperwork. No – I mean back when I was nine years old."

"You remember that?" Scott questioned.

"No," Kate admitted. "But Grandpa told me. And you know what brought him out of it?" When Scott shrugged, Kate continued.

"Uncle Charlie told him that I would need his love and support to get me through what happened, so stop feeling sorry for himself, get off his ass and be there for his baby."

"So what are you telling me?"

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and be there for Alan," Kate shrugged. "I would have thought that was obvious."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Scott grumbled.

"Nope," Kate whispered. "But John and Emily are in New York with your Dad, so if you want me to make you feel better…"

Scott followed Kate to the smaller house across the way. Even if all it really was being held – more or less – it did help, but it was knowing that Scott finally had someone he could lean on in hard times that was really gave Scott the strength to continue, to be what the rest of the family would need – their rock.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - Reactions are setting in, twists and turns are occuring...And I gotta get to work. Laters!**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - Do not own Thunderbirds. _**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

"OK, Alan," Emily said cheerfully. "If you're blood work looks good, we can take you home this afternoon."

"Wonderful," Alan muttered. "It will be great not to see the Island again."

Emily stifled a sigh, knowing that Alan was bound to be somewhat depressed. Pulling out a needle, she patted his arm. "Sweetie, I know this is hard. But you can't give up yet."

"Will you tell me when I can give up?" Alan grumbled.

"Nope," Emily smiled. "But I'll tell you if we need to change direction." Finishing drawing the blood, something she hadn't done much since she became a doctor, Emily set the vial of blood to the side and sat on Alan's bed.

"Now, I'll have you know, I am pulling a lot of extra duty here for you, Sweetie," Emily teased. "No lab techs drawing your blood or nurses giving you your meds. You get a specialist. Lucky for your dad, I offer a family discount."

Emily brushed Alan's hair off his forehead. She had taken over much of Alan's care while in the hospital due to the fact that Alan became panicky when he couldn't see strangers enter his room.

"Where's Dad?" Alan asked.

"John managed to talk him into breakfast," Emily assured her youngest brother-in-law. "There is a nice diner across the street. I even waived his coffee restrictions for the day."

Alan nodded, not even responding to Emily's teasing comment about his father's coffee. "Why did he have to talk to the cops last night?" Stretching out a hand, Alan relaxed when Emily gently took his hand in hers. "What happened wasn't an accident was it?"

"Are you remembering something, Alan?" Emily asked.

Nodding again, Alan chewed at his lip before answering. "There was some kind of explosion, wasn't there? I think I was in the parking garage with Lisa. Is that where it happened? Is she OK?"

Emily thought for a moment before she answered. "It was in the parking garage. Initial indicators are a bomb. They don't think it was your family being targeted. Tracy Towers is a landmark, much like the World Trade Center once was. The garage was probably just had the easiest access points."

"And Lisa?" Tears leaked out from Alan's eyes as Emily remained silent. "Lisa's dead isn't she? She was in front of me, I had her open the door. Gordon's gonna hate me."

"You listen to me Alan Tracy," Emily said fiercely. "Yes, Gordon is upset. But he is also grateful beyond belief that you are alive. You are his baby brother, his only younger brother, and he loves you more than words can ever say." Gently pulling Alan into her arms, she held him close as she whispered, "We are all thanking God that you were spared."

"Now," Emily sighed as she tucked Alan back under the blankets – hospitals were always cold in her opinion – and she brushed the back of her hand over his cheek. "You have to go for a full body scan as part of testing this morning. I know you feel incredibly confined in them and without your vision it was much worse yesterday."

Yesterday had been a horrible experience for them when they had done another CT of the head, Alan panicking in the confined space when the restrictions combined with his blindness led to extreme claustrophobia. It had been recommended that Alan be sedated for the next test.

"You're gonna knock me out, aren't you?" Alan grumbled.

Emily kissed his forehead. "Just a mild sedative. But I know you slept poorly last night, so don't be surprised if you don't wake up until lunch. And if you are a good boy, I'll smuggle you in some real food."

"Any chance of a hot dog?" Alan smiled. Scott might be a mother-hen, but with Emily and Sarah he felt more comfortable being mothered. After all, he didn't have to show he was as tough as any of the guys with the girls, right?

"How about a Chicago Dog?" Emily teased. "I know this one vendor on the next block, he used to work at the stadium where they have the White Sox games – or so he claims."

"Sounds good," Alan said, reaching out for Emily's hand. "Em?" he asked, suddenly very serious.

"Yes, Sweetie?"

"There really is a good chance this is temporary, right? You aren't just saying that to make me feel better?"

Emily leaned forward until her forehead touched Alan's. "I promise you, Sweetie. I won't lie to you about something so important." Kissing his forehead once more, she pulled another needle from her lab coat.

"Now," Emily said, reaching for Alan's IV. "You'll start feeling the medication shortly. I'm going to stay with you until it starts working. I need to go down the hall, but I told the nurses to call me if you need anything. The call button is right here – they know to call in before entering, OK? And if it isn't anything urgent, they'll wait for me or John or Dad, OK?"

Alan nodded, the meds starting to work quickly. He really hadn't slept well the night before and was – really – kinda – sleepy…

As Alan drifted off, Emily rubbed his arm once more before heading out of the room. Alan would be fine for a few minutes, just until John and Jeff returned.

* * *

><p>Jackson Mitchell sat at small table in a house that, had the owners been home, he would have never been made welcome in. But he was here, they were not, and he had plans.<p>

The news played softly in the background and Mitchell glared at the picture of Jeff Tracy. Reporters had been unable to get near the billionaire who was reportedly firmly ensconced by his youngest son's bedside. There was some degree of satisfaction that he had caused the billionaire no small amount of pain. The man's love for his sons was never in doubt and it was undoubtedly agonizing for him to know that it was his fault that his "baby" was in the hospital.

A picture of JP was now on the screen, mentioning that the young man had not been badly injured in the initial blast but that it had been his selfless determination to save Alan Tracy that had caused smoke inhalation leading to cardiac arrest. An on the scene reporter back in Chicago was reporting from outside the small house where JP had lived with his sister. Mitchell knew that they still lived in the same house they had with their parents, affordable only due to the fact the parents had paid it off prior to their deaths. The journalist looked appropriately saddened but somehow thrilled at reporting on a local hero.

Mitchell couldn't wait until they figured out JP was the one who planted the bomb in the first place.

As the story changed to a scandal involving some senator and a transgender prostitute, Mitchell reached out and ran his fingers over the badge that Flint had still been clutching when they had met up again yesterday. A slow smile crossed his face. Flint had seen this as a war trophy, something to cause stress and anxiety to Kate Eppes. Mitchell saw something totally different.

He saw an all-access pass to New York Presbyterian Hospital – and Alan Tracy.

* * *

><p>Jeff glanced at his watch again, much to his son's amusement.<p>

"Dad," John said calmly, "Emily is with Alan. He'll be having tests for a while and Emily said she'd call if he was done before we got back. So eat something, will you?"

"I'm eating," Jeff grumbled as he sliced into the omelet.

"More coffee?" the waitress cheerfully asked. She had seen the anxious glances the older man had kept throwing at the hospital. It was one she had seen many times over the years. Most of the staff felt almost a part of the hospital, knowing they were caring for the staff and the family members of the patients.

Jeff was about to say no when John whispered "Dad – you may never get an all-access pass from Emily again."

"Fill it up," Jeff smiled and took the cup as soon as the woman finished, breathing in deeply with delight.

* * *

><p>Gordon sat on the lanai, long after the rest of the family had gone to bed. He couldn't believe that he was awake, that this was happening.<p>

Lisa – beautiful, clever, lively Lisa – was dead. How could that be possible? He had been trying to find a way to break up the romance without losing her friendship. Gordon had still liked Lisa a lot and he didn't want to drive her from his life. But he had known that he and Lisa weren't meant to be together forever.

From where he sat, Gordon could see Scott and Kate sitting on the couch in John's house. Scott was dozing, leaning on Kate's shoulder as she carded her fingers through his hair. With her free hand, he could see her pick up the remote to turn down the volume of the movie they had been watching. Once she did that, Kate leaned over and gently kissed the top of Scott's head before she protectively held him closer.

Leaning back, Gordon heard some sniffling and looked up and saw Virgil and Sarah on the balcony to his older brother's room. Sarah was obviously upset, crying softly as Virgil held her close, kissing the back of her hair. The redhead kept murmuring about "baby", her special name for Alan. None of the family doubted how much Sarah Jane adored Alan. Virgil once commented it was a good thing Sarah hadn't been around before the Hood. If she had seen how much Alan had been hurt by his family…

Well, she was definitely a redhead, with the temper to match.

"Gordon?"

Gordon looked up and gave Onaha a weak smile. "Hey."

"There will be someone for you one day, you know."

Shrugging, Gordon sighed. "Yeah, I'm sure there will be. It's just – well, all my brothers have already found their someone. I just wish…" Suddenly, he froze, thinking of Alan's someone.

"How's Tin-Tin?"

Onaha nodded. "She cried herself to sleep. But she will awake and be determined to be there for Alan."

"We all will, Onaha," Gordon smiled. "That's what family does."

Standing, Gordon headed off to bed. One of them had to be awake for Alan. He couldn't do anything for Lisa, but he was definitely going to be there for his favorite little brother.

* * *

><p>Jackson Mitchell walked right into the halls of New York Presbyterian Hospital, the badge on his shirt allowing him access and a stolen lab coat – with stethoscope tucked into the pocket – completed the image of a medical professional.<p>

Mitchell recalled being admitted overnight to the hospital years ago following a car accident. He had heard two nurses gossiping about a famous movie actor who was recovering from a DUI car accident himself in the "celebrity wing", located on the same floor he was on, but the opposite side of the building. Under normal circumstances, there was no way he could access the wing where, no doubt, Jeff Tracy's progeny now was ensconced. But as a doctor? Maybe he could.

At the entrance to the "secure" wing, there was a security guard sitting behind a desk. Glancing up, the man was about to challenge Mitchell when he saw the badge. Waving the "doctor" through, the guard was given a formal nod and tight smile in return. Eh– doctors.

Once in the wing, Mitchell wondered how he could find out what room Alan Tracy was in. Just as he considered risking asking a nurse, he froze when he saw Jeff Tracy's daughter-in-law emerge from a room near the nurses' station.

Emily Tracy exited Alan's room, moving over to the nurses' station and began to make notes. "Helen?" she asked politely, waiting for the charge nurse to turn to her. Once the nurse had turned, she continued.

"Radiology will be coming for Alan shortly. But we need to keep someone with him. If I am not here, it has to be his father or brother. He doesn't need raised blood pressure; not with that clot. He's sedated at the moment, but it was mild."

"Alright Dr. Tracy, I -"

Before Helen could finish her sentence, a student nurse down the hall signaled for help. Helen gave Emily a rueful smile and held up one finger, signaling she would be right back.

The nurse had barely left her desk when Emily's cell phone beeped, indicating a text message. Looking down, Emily frowned but got the attention of the other student nurse working the floor.

"If the patient in room 517 wakes, page me immediately. My number is in his records."

"Yes, Doctor."

Emily quickly left and Mitchell emerged from the shadows. He didn't think she would recognize him, but why take the chance?

Nodding politely at the student nurse, Mitchell entered room 517 and approached Alan Tracy's bed.

Seeing the teenager tucked into the bed like the little prince he was, Mitchell could only glare at Jeff Tracy's son. _What makes you so worthy of love and everything else? Why should you get all the breaks? Wealthy, athletic, smart, rich – is there anything you don't get to have?_

"Em?" Alan murmured from the bed, stirring slightly under the covers. He blinked his eyes open, staring sightlessly around the room. "Em? Dad? John?" Alan's breath became faster and more shallow. "Is someone there? Is – someone – there?"

Between the meds and his frantic breathing, Alan passed out at that moment as panic overwhelmed the teenager.

"Blind?" Mitchell whispered, tracing the bandage secured over Alan's head with a gloved hand. "How perfect is that?"

The student nurse entered the room at that moment.

"Doctor?" she asked. "Is he alright? The patient's heart rate went up suddenly."

Mitchell smiled benignly. "I think I startled him. But I don't think this is the patient I need to see."

Glancing at his badge, the student smiled. "No, no cardiology needs here. He's being seen as a neuro patient."

"That will teach me to leave my notes in my office," Mitchell smiled and left, not noticing that his stolen badge had fallen in the floor next to Alan's bed.

* * *

><p>"Edward?"<p>

Edward Eppes turned and smiled, standing up and holding out a chair to Emily Tracy.

"Thanks for meeting me," Edward said as he sat back down. Pushing a cup towards her, he asked, "You still like green tea with honey, right?"

Smiling, Emily took a small sip of the tea. "Yes, thank you." Taking another sip of tea, Emily set the cup back down before speaking again.

"Was there something you needed, Edward?"

Shrugging, Edward played with his cell phone for a minute before answering. "Not really. You left so suddenly back in Los Angeles and the next thing I know, I'm getting e-mails about you getting engaged. Bet that thrilled your mother," Edward said with a touch of bitterness.

"Actually," Emily said calmly, "it kind of pissed her off. See, during one of her written rants of me "Getting some common sense and moving back to civilization and acting with decorum", I replied that I was happy in my job and in love with a writer who lived on an island north of Auckland with his family. Susan Haas then gave me 30 days to move back to New York and marry someone she approved of. I disowned her just as she disowned me. A few weeks later my engagement announcement was in the papers and to say the Queen Bee was infuriated in an understatement. I ended up having to take out a restraining order against her in the end."

Edward nodded. That sounded like Susan Haas.

"Anyhow," Emily continued. "I'm happy, I love John, my work with the clinic is amazing, and we are having a baby. Was that what you wanted to know?"

Smiling, Edward picked up Emily's hand. "I won't lie to you, Em. It was hurtful that you moved on so quickly. But remember what you told me when you broke it off? That you cared for me but that you didn't love me enough to fight for me. You found that, didn't you? You'd fight for John."

Emily smiled back and murmured her agreement. Sighing, she stood up and pushed back her chair. "I have to go check on Alan," Emily finally said. "He's – well, he's not dealing with this well."

Edward fell into step beside her. "I have to say, I don't think I would either. From what I've heard, the kid has had a rough year or so."

Grimacing, Emily nodded. "You have no idea, Edward. You have no idea."

* * *

><p>Jackson Mitchell quietly made his way down to the lobby. He would come back tonight and grab the kid. With Alan blind, it would be perfect. Tracy's brat would be helpless.<p>

Mitchell was so caught up in his plans that he almost walked straight into the returning Jeff and John Tracy. He quickly ducked into an elevator and froze when John called out, "Hey, hold that elevator."

One of the nurses already in the car happily obliged and Mitchell was sure his goose was cooked when Jeff Tracy suddenly said, "Never mind" and turned away from the elevator.

The nurse sighed in disappointment but allowed the doors to close. At the next stop, Mitchell got off and walked to the stairwell, slipping out the side entrance and merging with the heavy foot traffic outside the hospital.

It was moments like this that convinced Jackson Mitchell that he was destined for something more. Fate was on his side.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Tracy! John!" Daria called out as she jogged into the hospital. Catching up to the Tracys, she took a deep breath.<p>

"Sorry. Guess I am still working off the baby pounds," Daria sighed.

"That's right," John said. "Kate said that you had a baby boy a couple of months ago."

Daria beamed. "Adrian Jacob Delgado. Andy. Seven pounds, eight ounces, twenty-one inches. Looks just like his dad."

Sobering quickly, Daria changed the subject. "I need to speak with Alan."

Jeff shook his head. "I don't think that is such a good idea. Alan was traumatized by what happened. As soon as his doctors clear him, I am taking him home."

Daria's eyes narrowed. "You don't play poker, do you, Mr. Tracy?"

Puzzled, Jeff frowned. "What does that mean?"

"There's something else bothering you," Daria said. "Something you are trying to protect Alan from. But Alan may have seen something, heard something. As of right now, Alan is my only living witness."

John and Jeff exchanged a look before John spoke in a lowered voice. "Alan received significant head trauma. He's awake, but there is swelling and a clot causing pressure. At this time, Alan is blind."

Daria sighed. "How much of the incident does he remember?"

Jeff chewed his lower lip. "Little or nothing at this time but I can and will let you know if Alan recalls anything."

"I really need Alan to be available to a federal agent at that time," Daria injected.

"I don't think that will be a problem," John muttered, causing Jeff to give a glare and Daria to be puzzled for a moment before she grinned.

"Ah – so that's where they hid Kate out," Daria said.

"How did you jump to that conclusion?" Jeff softly asked.

Daria chuckled. "FBI work is 10 percent footwork, 80 percent paperwork and 20 percent guess work."

John frowned. "That's 110 percent."

Shrugging, Daria chuckled. "What can I say – I work a lot." Hustling the Tracys into an empty elevator, she said, "How about I just get to say hi to Alan? If he remembers something, great. If he doesn't, it won't hurt for me to say hi."

* * *

><p>Emily headed back towards Alan's room, still talking with Edward. Her ex had heard of the project she was running but it was Kate's admiration for it that had intrigued the surgeon even more.<p>

Emily was giving more details towards the rotation of specialists she was working on as they approached the nurses' station when she heard the elevator open, causing Emily to turn as the other Tracys exited.

"Hey," Emily smiled at her husband and father-in-law while nodding at Daria. "So – you kept the coffee in limit, right?"

"Define "in limit"," Jeff said cautiously.

Emily was ready to give Jeff another lecture on too much caffeine when she heard the head nurse, Helen, arguing with the student nurse.

"You should have contacted Dr. Tracy immediately! Or at least me. No one is supposed to go into room 517 without authorization," Helen was saying.

"Helen," Emily spoke up. "Has something happened with Alan?"

"Oh, Dr. Tracy," Helen apologized. "A doctor wandered into your brother-in-law's room by mistake. Alan apparently woke briefly while he was in there."

"Which doctor?" Jeff asked.

"Um," the student mused. "It was a Dr. Eppes – a visiting doctor, I think. The badge was different."

Jeff and John became wide-eyed with panic and raced into Alan's room while Emily struggled with her breath, almost gasping. "Amber – _this _is Dr. Eppes. And he lost his badge yesterday."

"Oh dear," the student nurse murmured as Emily and Edward headed into Alan's room, Daria following up behind them.

"Is he alright?" Edward asked as Emily pushed forward and began to examine her brother-in-law.

"Apparently," Emily murmured before she heard an odd noise at her feet. "What's that?"

"My badge," Edward gasped, about to reach for the badge when Daria held out a hand.

"Wait," she said, grabbing the badge with a glove before dropping it in an evidence bag. "I'll run prints on it." Looking over at Jeff, the agent gave a quick nod.

"We'll arrange police protection for Alan immediately. And I'll need to talk to the hospital administrators. We'll do a search of security cameras. We won't let anything happen to Alan."

As the agent left, Jeff sat on Alan's bed and ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah," he muttered. "Good luck with that."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN - OK, so Mitchell knows about Alan's problem, the family is uniting behind him...what could go wrong?_**

**_Alan - With you around, plenty._**

**_CC - Alan, do not give me grief. I have, in the last ten days, fallen and injured my knee, had a reaction to pain medication, have almost two feet of snow fall HALLOWEEN WEEKEND, and lost power at my house for several days. We couldn't find a hotel in the area (the closest one was in Kittery, Maine - almost a ninety minute drive), so we ended up crashing at my parents' house. For better or worse, they are away on vacation, and my brother, who is staying there, didn't mind. Thank goodness my parents have a decent, full-sized generator. _**

**_Alan - So...are we a bit cranky?_**

**_CC - Duh._**

**_Alan - Um, how does that fair for me?_**

**_CC - Stock up on painkillers, Alan._**

**_Gordon - Hey, CC, how...Um, Alan, why are you so pale?_**

**_Alan - She's been injured, annoyed and other wise is in a bad mood._**

**_Gordon - Crap. OK, Allie - make this your mantra - CC doesn't do death fics, CC doesn't do death fics._**

**_CC - Hey...I did pick up some pumpkin donuts at Dunkin Donuts and I just made some hot apple cider. That should help._**

**_Alan - You tried to blow me up and blinded me. Now you have a couple of nutcases after me. And you think donuts and cider will calm me down?_**

**_CC - Um, I got apple cider donuts, too?_**

**_Alan - OK, that will work._**

**_CC - Don't worry Alan - it will get better. (Mutters) Maybe worse first, but it will get better. (Smiles) Alan, chew - you can't eat if you don't chew. And everyone else - review...PLEASE! I need it. Oh, and if I didn't get back to you, re-read this convo and try and figure out WHY? Will try and do better this time._******


	13. Chapter 13

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Disclaimer - Do not own Thunderbirds, and - with the Kate background and her cousin (c'mon - who saw that coming?) in this chapter, I don't own Numb3rs either. <em>**

**Chapter 13**

Jeff waited in the small office that had been allotted to Edward Eppes while he was on temporary duty at the hospital, thumbing through his e-mail on his i-Phone and making notes on what he had to respond to. When the door opened, he looked up hopefully only to be disappointed when Edward entered.

"Not the doctor you were hoping to see?" Edward joked as he handed Jeff a cup of coffee.

"I just want the tests completed so I can get Alan out of here," Jeff admitted.

"I can understand that," Edward said. "I don't have any kids myself, but I know how protective my Dad and Uncle Don were of all of us. And," Edward sighed, "I can remember when Kate was shot."

Jeff took a sip of coffee before saying, "Oh, yes – during the investigation at Tracy Enterprises in Chicago. But that is almost a job hazard for an FBI agent, isn't it?"

Shaking his head, Edward sat down at the desk. "No, not that time. Not that it helped the family, coming so soon after Grandpa Eppes dying. No, I mean when she was nine."

"Nine?" Jeff had to set down his cup before he dropped it in shock.

Edward shrugged. "Kate doesn't like to talk about it. But it was hard on all of us. I was eleven, my brother Ben was thirteen, Kate's brothers were around fourteen and Maggie – my older sister – was barely fifteen. Kate was shot in the neck by some creep Uncle Don had sent to jail." Edward sighed as he took a long sip of his coffee.

"I don't know if the family would have survived if Katie had died."

Smiling, Edward picked up a picture and handed it to Jeff. The Tracy father didn't know it, but it was the same one that hung so prominently in Kate's apartment, taken when she graduated high school.

"That's the family. Kate is the baby and we tend to be a little protective of her, a lot like your family with Alan. Uncle Don and Aunt Robin used to call her their miracle. When the twins were born, they were told they were lucky to have conceived the twins and not to count on more kids. So when Kate was born? Uncle Don was over the moon. She was this tiny baby doll that we were all fascinated by. If she had died – well, I don't want to think about it."

"Kate looks a lot like her father," Jeff mentioned as he handed the photo back.

"Which means she looks exactly like our Grandma Eppes," Edward said. "We teased my sister that she got Grandma's name, Kate got everything else. Except she doesn't dye her hair blonde."

"Kate's mentioned her grandfather quite often, but not her grandmother," Jeff responded.

"Grandma Eppes died before any of us were born," Edward explained. "We never knew her."

Jeff and Edward continued to talk about family, sharing a few antidotes of their families as a way of distracting Jeff from his worries.

Just as Edward was telling Jeff about the story behind the picture, a knock on the door drew their attention. When Edward called for entrance, Daria walked into the room.

"Mr. Tracy," Daria said urgently. "Have you gotten word yet on if you can transport Alan?"

"Trying to get rid of Alan?" Edward teased only to see Daria tense up.

"What is it?" Jeff asked, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

Daria worried her lip before explaining. "We haven't gotten any clear shots of our phony doc but we did get prints from the badge - Devon Flint."

"Flint?" Edward snapped before grumbling. "What the heck would he want with Alan? He doesn't even know the Tracys."

Looking at Jeff, Daria explained. "When Kate was in Chicago, she had cold case looking at any unsolved cases in the area."

"I heard of that," Jeff admitted, causing curious looks from the others before Daria continued.

"Well, no one looked further. He was looking at a needle in LA or life in Chicago. But when he escaped, we sent out DNA profiles. It was presumed that he couldn't resist causing further harm. Flint is a psychopath. Mitchell is a sociopath and may be able to keep some control over him if they stuck together but either scenario is doubtful."

"Has he committed another crime?" Edward asked.

"Besides attacking you?" Daria asked before she shook her head. "Not that we know of. But we got a call from Dade County Sherriff. They had always assumed that two rape-murders committed a few years ago were done by a Spring Breaker. But Devon Mitchell was working on his first major photo essay before being hired out in LA, covering Spring Break. And it was his DNA that matched on both vics."

"So he killed two more women?" Jeff asked only for Daria to shake her head.

"No, Mr. Tracy," she denied. When both men looked puzzled, Daria continued.

"His victims were two teenage boys – blonde, slender, athletic and from upper middle class families. Physically? Both boys resembled Alan a great deal. At least before Flint got a hold of them.'

Jeff looked sick. "Why would he go after Alan?" the frantic father asked weakly.

"Because he can," Daria said coldly.

Standing, Jeff went to the door. "Edward – get Dr. Wetherall. As soon as we can, I am getting Alan out of here."

"Mr. Tracy?" Daria said. "We'll get him before he can get anywhere near Alan."

Jeff stood in the open door for a moment before speaking.

"See that you do, Agent Delgado. Because if that monster lays one finger on my son, I will kill him with my bare hands. No one – and I mean no one – hurts my sons."

As Jeff left, Edward nodded. "OK – they'll fit in well with my family."

Daria looked at Edward in dismay before she shrugged. Yeah, that was in sync with what Kate said.

* * *

><p>John stood back and watched as Emily supervised the full body scan, speaking with Dr. Simone in soft tones. Finally, the machine stopped and Emily made her way over to her husband.<p>

"Hey," she smiled, kissing his cheek. "It looks good, the clot isn't mobile and Alan is responding well to the blood thinner. I think we can take him home today."

"Good," John sighed. He was about to say something else when Jeff entered the area.

The tech looked up and held out a hand. "I'm sorry, sir, you can't come in here."

"Like hell," Jeff hissed.

"Dad," John said, running up to his father.

"Dad," Emily quietly echoed. "What is your major malfunction?"

John raised an eyebrow at his wife. "Emmy – you've been hanging around Alan too much."

"Sarah Jane, actually," Emily responded calmly.

Jeff was quiet for a moment as he decided how much to tell his son and daughter-in-law. If it was just John, he would be saying everything. But with Emily already suffering from hypertension and heading into her third trimester of pregnancy, Jeff had to consider her stress level. Finally, he decided that a half truth was better than none at all.

"Agent Delgado got the fingerprints back from the badge," Jeff said. "The person responsible is a known felon, with a history of violent crimes."

"My God," Emily breathed, raising a shaking hand to her mouth. "Ok," she sighed. "Well, the nurse came in before he could harm Alan. But I agree – the sooner we get him out of here, the better we all will feel."

Dr. Simone walked over at that moment, having been on a wall phone when the Tracys were talking.

"Mr. Tracy," the neurologist spoke up. "Dr. Eppes has given me the background on the incident and the FBI investigation. I will give Dr. Tracy all the instructions on Alan's care but I must insist on seeing Alan in two weeks. Alan can wear sunglasses but I also want his eyes covered and drops placed in them for several hours each day. He will need plenty of rest and care must be taken for his head. Alan should not get his head wet for another three to four days. At that point, a smaller bandage can be there. The wrapping should stay until then. The swelling may go down during the two weeks, but I do not believe it will be significant enough to allow his vision to return."

"We understand, Dr. Simone," John answered. "And if there are any signs of a problem, Alan will be at Mercy General within no time at all."

"I will send copies of his records to the neurologist there,"Dr. Simone said.

Emily nodded. "I'll let Larry to know to expect them." When several eyes turned her way, she shrugged. "What– Lawrence Castle is the best neurologist in New Zealand. Who else should she send the records to?"

"I will make note of that," Dr. Simone said with amusement before leaving to make arrangements for Alan's discharge.

* * *

><p>Kate was typing up a report when the vid-phone next to her beeped. Looking up, she noticed it was her father's office line. Smiling, Kate hit the button to answer the call.<p>

"Hey, Dad," Kate said cheerfully. "How's the family?"

Don Eppes looked extremely serious. "Katie – you need to call in the Tracys."

"Is this about what happened in New York?" Kate asked in concern.

"To a degree," Don admitted.

"Dad," Kate said, "you're scaring me."

Don said nothing except to repeat his instructions to get the Tracys. Kate pressed on an intercom button that– Scott had assured her – was connected to their emergency signals on the watches and would draw them all to the location the button had been pressed.

Within a minute, Scott, Virgil and Gordon were all gathered around the desk in the small office of the house John and Emily shared.

Looking at them solemnly, Don began. "First off, I am glad to hear that Alan should make a good recovery. But Edward said that they are preparing to leave the hospital this afternoon."

"Wait a sec," Kate interrupted. "Edward? Like in my cousin, Edward? My cousin who lives in California and is a cardio guy not a head guy?"

Don allowed a small smile before continuing. "Yes, that Edward. Although calling a respected cardio-thoracic surgeon a cardio guy is a bit extreme, Katie. But he has been in New York on an exchange arranged between UCLA and Columbia University."

"That's right," Virgil mused. "New York Presbyterian is tied to Columbia." Then the middle brother's eyebrows went up. "Does John and Emily know he's there?"

"Well," Don shrugged, "since John saved Edward's life, I would say yes."

"Saved his life," Kate freaked. "From what?"

Forcing out a huff of air, Don paused before answering. "Devon Flint attacked Edward with a knife. He apparently heard him talking to your uncle before he attacked – and Edward had been talking about you." When he saw Kate become upset, Don tried to comfort his daughter.

"Baby, this isn't your fault. Edward has only a minor injury. And, from what he said to me, he now feels better about the whole break up with Emily. He sees that Emily is really meant to be with John. Maybe now, your cousin will move forward with his life."

"There's something else, isn't there?" Scott said. "You have a look that Kate gets when she doesn't want to tell you everything."

"That and the fact you wanted us here," Gordon injected quietly.

Don looked at the fourth Tracy son with sympathy. He knew from Charlie that the young man had been dating Shari's step-daughter. The kid had to be devastated.

"Yes, there is," Don admitted. "When Flint attacked Edward, he apparently stole Edward's badge, which he then used to gain access to the hospital. He got into Alan's room -"

"WHAT!" Four voices shouted in varying degrees of shock and concerns, causing the usually unflinching Don Eppes to, well, flinch.

"He's alright," Don assured them. "Apparently, a nurse scared him off before anything could happen. But the hospital has agreed that your family can keep Alan safer than they can."

"And now we know where Flint is," Kate said firmly before looking at her father pleadingly. "So, I can go to Kansas with Scott…that is, if Scott is still going?"

Scott gave her a small smile. "And risk the wrath of Miss Millie by missing her daughter's wedding? Perish the thought."

"I'd be more scared of Jeannie," Virgil muttered before excusing himself to check on the infirmary.

"Any sane man would," Gordon agreed, following his brother out.

Don looked carefully at his daughter and her boyfriend. "Katie, well – just promise me you'll be careful."

Kate nodded. "I will, Dad. And Edward?"

"He's moved into an empty room in the hospital," Don admitted. "And the FBI will give him a ride to the airport and stay with him until he boards the plane to LA. Flint's picture has been distributed all over the hospital but Edward will take extra precautions until he leaves on Monday." Don sighed.

"And your Uncle Charlie will be bothering me until then."

Kate gave a rueful chuckle. "He learned it from the best, Dad – nobody mother-hens like you." She glanced over her shoulder at Scott and smiled. "Well, almost no one."

Don and Scott exchanged looks of amusement. But it was the nods that silently assured a father that his daughter was in good hands.

* * *

><p>Alan was still drowsy when Jeff gently placed him in the wheelchair while Emily carefully observed. Nearby, John took the medical reports from Dr. Simone. He knew that as soon as Virgil had Alan secured in the infirmary, the middle Tracy son would want to review the reports.<p>

"Now," Dr. Simone reminded them, I must see Alan in two weeks and you have to make sure to send me reports on a daily basis. This is not to be taken lightly."

"We assure you Dr. Simone," Emily said, "Alan's health and well-being is of the highest priority to us."

Looking at the family in concern, Dr. Simone nodded. She had realized that the father was not being totally honest at this point with the rest of the family as to the possible threat to their youngest member. But she had to agree with him that getting Alan out of town was perhaps the only way to keep teenager safe from harm.

At a loading dock at the rear of the hospital, the car had been pulled up and Carl Patrick got out, handing the keys to John.

"Okay guys," Carl said cheerfully. "Here's your getaway car."

"Funny Carl," Emily grumbled as she slid into the back seat. She opened her mouth to say something else, but refrained as she heard an unwelcome, and an unwanted, voice calling out to them.

"Mr. Tracy!" Ana Nevada called out as she ran towards the car. Her camera man struggled to keep up behind her. "Mr. Tracy, if I could just get one quick quote."

Carl glared at the so-called reporter. "Don't you have any real news to report on?" Carl asked as he stood between his employer and Ana.

"Listen buddy," Ana snarled, "the Tracys are news."

Jeff did his best to ignore the woman, gently placing his youngest son next to his daughter-in-law. Alan was beginning to stir, and Jeff wanted him out of there before Ana would say anything to upset the teenager. But his efforts were in vain with her next words.

"Alan," Ana called out. "Can you tell us your feelings on being the only survivor of this tragedy? Especially given that JP Horne only died because he was saving your life?"

Jeff glared at the reporter, with Carl getting in the passenger seat and Jeff slipping in next to Alan. As John pulled the car away from the hospital, Jeff turned to check on his youngest and was horrified to see tears trailing down the boy's face.

"Is that true, Dad?" Alan asked tearfully. "Did JP die too? And was it my fault?"

"You listen to me, Alan," Jeff said fiercely to his son. "None of what happened is your fault."

"But why did I survive?" Alan whispered.

"I don't know, Allie," Jeff softly assured Alan. "But I thank God that you did. Now let's get you home so your brothers can fuss over you."

"And your sisters," Emily teased. "We want our turn smothering him as well."

John smiled in the rear view mirror, before focusing on the traffic he had just merged into. Alan had received another devastating blow but his family would be there. They would make it better.

They just had to.

Within half an hour, Jeff was taxiing down the runway at JFK. John knew his father was usually reluctant to use the name card, but today Jeff had been more than willing to do whatever it took to get Alan out of New York.

Once he was sure that Emily was comfortable and Alan –still lightly sedated- was settled in the rear of the plane, John made his way to the cockpit and took a seat next to his father.

"OK, Dad," John said softly, not wanting to draw any attention from Emily and Alan. "What gives? Carl rode with us all the way to the airport and don't think I didn't notice that he was armed. Plus there were at least three other Tracy Enterprises Security personnel in key positions and – if I am not mistaken – Agent Sanders was lurking in the background as well."

"Huh," mused Jeff. "Didn't notice Sanders. I'll have to thank Agent Delgado for that one."

"Dad!" John hissed. "I'm serious – what is going on?"

Sighing, Jeff rubbed the back of his neck before glancing to the rear of the plane. "I don't want Emily or Alan to worry about this," Jeff insisted quietly.

John made a locking-lips gesture that made Jeff smile slightly as he recalled his sons often doing that as children. Quickly sobering, he explained his concerns.

"The man in Alan's room? It was the same man who attacked Edward Eppes."

Shaking his head, John halted his father.

"Sorry, Dad – I never got the name of the guy. Edward seemed to know him and the cops never asked me for anything beyond a basic statement since Daria was there for almost as long as I was."

"Devon Flint," Jeff solemnly said.

"What – wait," John sputtered. "That nut job? The one who attacked Kate and had targeted Emily at one point?" John made sure his voice was low as he said, "The rapist-murderer from California? Didn't he kill like eight women?"

"Eight women in California, three in Chicago and now it seems to appear that his DNA has shown up in two cold cases in Florida."

"Why would he try and get to Alan?" John said in confusion.

Jeff looked grim. "The rape, torture and murder cases in Florida were of two teenage boys. Blonde, blue eyes, slender and athletic – not unlike Alan. While some of his female victims in California were not blonde or blue eyed, most were. All three in Chicago were. His "type" as Agent Delgado explained it."

"God," John breathed out before paling. "Alan – did they…"

Raising a hand, Jeff tried to calm his second son. "John, he didn't touch Alan. It looks like the nurse came in before it could happen. But there was no way I was going to leave your brother there. Not with that monster anywhere in the area."

"Well," John said, "we just won't take him back to New York. Emily thinks highly of that doctor in Auckland."

Jeff shook his head. "No, I probably will take Alan back in two weeks as I promised. Dr. Simone is one of the top neurologist in the country, if not the world. Besides, Agent Delgado said that Flint is more likely to try and leave New York now. Too many people realize he is there. Even in a city as big as New York, he won't be able to hide. And we'll stay in the Towers when we aren't at the hospital. I can keep Alan safe there."

Patting John's arm, Jeff adjusted the controls. "Now let's get Alan home before Scott burst a blood vessel."

John gave a weak smile that quickly faded. He was not looking forward to his only older brother finding out about this latest twist.

* * *

><p>"Did you use the badge I got off Eppes' cousin?"<p>

Mitchell looked up and shrugged. "Yeah, reconnoitered the hospital. Got into the Tracy kid's room. Get this – the kid's blind."

Flint nodded. "So he's helpless? Anything else wrong with him?"

Shaking his head, Mitchell continued to dig through his pockets. "Bandage wrapped around his head. Brace on his left wrist. Looked to be about that. Hardly any bruising – I tell you, the kid was just too lucky."

"So are we going to grab the pretty boy?" Flint asked with a leer.

Mitchell looked over at Flint with distaste before pushing the feeling aside. Flint could do whatever he liked with Tracy's brat as long as he got the money from the big man.

"Yeah, later today. We'll need to get some uniforms or something -" Mitchell's attention was drawn to the television where Ana Nevada was speaking.

"_Just a day after the explosion at the Tracy Towers parking garage, which claimed the lives of two Tracy Enterprises employees, billionaire Jeff Tracy was quietly removing his youngest son, Alan, from the area. The fifteen year old was injured in the explosion but was clearly well enough to be removed from New York's Presbyterian Hospital."_

The scene behind the reporter changed from the front of the hospital to the sight of Jeff Tracy gently helping his youngest son into the back of a luxury sedan. There was a glimpse of Emily Tracy gently pulling Alan towards her while John Tracy and another man cast glares at the camera – or, more likely, the reporter. None of the Tracys' entourage said anything.

At least not on camera.

"_While obviously hurt, Alan Tracy was recovered sufficiently for his family to quietly take him away. According to unnamed sources, the family did not head to their New York residence, the penthouse of Tracy Towers, but instead were cleared for take-off from New York's LaGuardia Airport, no doubt to return to their private island home. Hopefully, the teenager truly is well enough for travel after the tragedy and it is not a case of Jeff Tracy's need for privacy that is endangering his minor child."_

At that the reporter signed off, trying to look solemn but if you looked closely, you could see the undisguised glee in her eyes.

You did not, however, have to look closely to see the anger or frustration in the eyes of the two escaped convicts.

"Damn it," Mitchell growled before calming himself. "They'll be back, we just need to be patient."

"How can you be sure?" Flint snapped, having already been anticipating "meeting" Alan Tracy.

Smirking, Mitchell explained. "The Tracy brat was under the care of a neurologist. He'll have to come back for a check-up. We'll just keep an eye on the Towers. I still know a way or two into the buildings. I helped do the last security system update."

"This better work out, Mitchell," Flint glowered. "Or I am taking it out of your hide. Now – where is that badge?"

"I had it at the hospital," Mitchell explained before cussing. "Damn it, I think I may have dropped it."

Glaring at Mitchell, Flint hissed, "Strike One."

Watching as Flint stomped away, Mitchell wondered how long he had to put up with the pervert before he killed him. Then again, imaging the look on Jeff Tracy's face if Flint laid his hands on one of the big man's "True Treasures" – especially the one reported to look the most like the late Mrs. Tracy?

It was an image to savor.

* * *

><p>In a small house on the edge of Chicago, a young woman sat on a faded couch, her eyes burning from the countless tears she had shed. Her entire body ached from the pain of her grief, something so much more than physical.<p>

Brittany Horne was caught up in an endless cycle of pain and anger. Friends had been dropping by and her fridge was stocked with casseroles. A representative from Tracy Enterprises had stopped by to assure her that the company would pay for Jeffy's funeral. They had also had her sign some paperwork. Even though Jeffy had been a seasonal hire, it seemed they had been impressed by him and had wanted him to work, on a part-time basis, back in Chicago. Under the assumption that he would have become a permanent employee, they had processed the life-insurance policy that all Tracy employees had.

With dead eyes, Brittany looked at the paperwork again. They would be placing the equivalent of the remainder of Jeffy's pay for the summer and fifty thousand dollars for the insurance as a direct deposit for Brittany within the next ten days, or so she had been assured.

In the next room, Brittany could hear aunt talking to one of her neighbors.

"Oh, yes, it is a great tragedy. Brittany had done all she could the last few years, always putting Little Jeffrey first. My sister-in-law would have been so proud of her. We offered to take Jeffrey you know. But Brittany wouldn't hear of it. She dropped out of college and started working full-time to take care of the boy."

"It must give you comfort," the neighbor said, "to know Jeffrey died a hero."

Brittany never heard what her aunt said as she flipped on the television. What good was it if Jeffy had been a hero? He was still dead. Her only real family left and now he was dead.

The name "Tracy" drew Brittany's focus onto the reporter on screen.

" _- was injured in the explosion but was clearly well enough to be removed from New York's Presbyterian Hospital."_

"_While obviously hurt, Alan Tracy was recovered sufficiently for his family to quietly take him away. According to unnamed sources, the family did not head to their New York residence, the penthouse of Tracy Towers, but instead were cleared for take-off from New York's LaGuardia Airport, no doubt to return to their private island home. Hopefully, the teenager truly is well enough for travel after the tragedy and it is not a case of Jeff Tracy's need for privacy that is endangering his minor child."_

Brittany glared at the image on-screen. Alan Tracy. Her brother – her baby brother – had died saving the son of some rich guy. Why was the life of Alan Tracy so much more precious than that of Jeffy's? Did the kid even know who Jeffrey "JP" Horne was? Did he care? Did any of those rich, parasites know how special her brother had been? She had been willing to bet that none of that family had ever been inside a K-Mart, forget work in one.

Tossing the paperwork onto a table beside her, Brittany turned off the television and lay back on the couch. She had some thinking to do. Someone was responsible for her little brother's death and Brittany was determined about one thing.

Someone was going to pay.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN Before anyone says anything, Ana saying Alan was fifteen (he's sixteen, remember?) and the family flew out of LaGuardia (they flew out of JFK) was intentional. She's a dumbass. Facts are something that gets in the way of a good story.**_

_**Twit.**_

_**More soon, CC**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Don't own. Nope. Nada. Sigh - that is depressing spending all this time and energy and no financial benefit. Oh well - blood pressure is helped by causing such torture and agnst.** _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

Scott Tracy raced through the villa before coming to a full stop in front of the doors to the infirmary. At the doors, he froze, breathing harshly. With a shaking hand, the eldest Tracy brother forced his breathing to calm down before he pushed the doors open.

Stepping into the infirmary, Scott gave Emily a small smile which she returned in full.

"Scott," Emily laughed. "Not the brother I thought I would be seeing first. I figured Virgil would be down to review the medical reports."

Thinking of how upset his middle brother had been – not to mention how distressed said brother's fiancée was – Scott privately thought it might be a while before Virgil or Sarah would make their way down. But he couldn't tell Emily that. Jeff and John had been adamant about that.

Pulling up a chair next to Alan's bed, Scott took his youngest brother's hand, holding it gently. "He's asleep again," Scott said to Emily.

Gently brushing Alan's hair from his forehead, Emily nodded. "He'll do that for a few days. The rest of the week, possibly. On the plus side, by the time Alan feels like being out of bed, he'll be physically ready. The bandages should be able to be removed within a week, the stitches after seven days. He'll still have to take it easy but Alan will be able to get around with help."

"Well, he'll have plenty of that," Scott assured his sister-in-law. Emily nodded and returned to the small desk she kept in the infirmary.

As Alan murmured in his sleep and moved slightly, Scott ran a comforting hand over his brother's arm, calming the boy back to sleep. "It's ok, Allie. I'm right here – I'll keep you safe, little brother."

Scott had thought Alan being caught in the middle of a terrorist bombing was bad enough. But what their father had just told them? It scared him more than anything had in his life.

"_Come on, Dad," Scott protested as he followed his brothers, John and Virgil, along with Sarah and Kate. Gordon was helping the Hackenbackers and Kyranos with setting things in the house so that Alan could safely make his way through the main villa. _

"_I can either be helping with the house or – better yet – spend more time with Alan. We just got him home."_

"_Emily has Alan," John assured his only older brother. "You saw him, he's kinda out of it now. What the kid needs most is rest and quiet."_

"_Fine," Scott grumbled. "Then at least Virgil or Sarah should be with him."_

_Jeff sat behind his desk and looked solemnly at his gathered children. He almost smiled at the way Kate stood behind Scott, gently rubbing his shoulders, keeping the usually impulsive Scott calm. Sarah and Virgil sat side by side, their hands clasped in their anxiety, keeping each other balanced. Jeff's smile faded somewhat at John leaning against the door to his balcony. John's usually calm face and gentle eyes were hard and angry. _

_He was sure they would all be looking that way soon._

_With calmness Jeff was sure he wasn't really feeling, he calmly related what Agent Delgado had discovered about the intruder in Alan's room. John had interjected at key points, giving details to flesh out the explanations._

_Scott stood in fury. "No way. No way is Allie going back to New York until that bastard is arrested."_

"_Scott," John said calmly. "Dad is not going to let Alan out of his sight. As long as he is with one of us, he'll be fine."_

"_Alan should have been fine at the hospital," Sarah exclaimed. "He should have been safe. That was a secure wing but that pervert still got near to Alan. If he hadn't become agitated and his heart hadn't started racing, that – that **monster **could have done anything to him!"_

"_We left Alan alone," Jeff admitted. "That won't be happening again."_

"_No it won't," Kate said calmly. "Scott and I will be going to Jeannie Bates wedding in two weeks, so we will drop Jeff and Alan off before back-tracking to Kansas."_

"_That's not a bad idea," Jeff admitted. "In fact, it sounds like a good thing, doesn't it, Scott?"_

"_I – I'm going to check on Alan," Scott stated, heading to the door. All he knew is he had to be with his baby brother._

"We'll keep you safe, Allie," Scott whispered. "I promised Mom. I promised to keep you safe." But as he held his brother's hand, he wondered if he would be able to keep all monsters at bay - because they seemed to come from everywhere.

* * *

><p>Kate watched the man who had so quickly become the center of her world storm out of the room before she glanced over at his brother.<p>

"You saved Edward from Flint?" Kate softly asked John.

John shrugged. "It seemed like the thing to do at the time."

Kate smiled and stood up, giving John a peck on the cheek. "Well, it means the world to me. Edward is my favorite cousin. It would have been devastating if anything had happened to him because of me."

"Why do you say because of you?" Sarah asked from her seat next to Virgil, her fiancé glancing up from the records they had brought back from New York, marking what he wanted to discuss with Emily later, as she had the origionals.

Glancing again at John, Kate shook her head. "Try and tell me Flint didn't attack Edward because of me."

Jeff and John both shrugged this time. Based on what they had heard, it did appear that Flint had somehow discovered the doctor's relationship to the agent.

"Well, that makes it clear," Kate muttered before paling. "And it's my fault he almost got to Alan."

"Now you can't and won't take the blame for that," Jeff said. "There are so many other factors. Like the hospital not cancelling that ID badge, or whoever allowed someone without a photo ID onto a secure wing."

"And how about the nurse that didn't call security as soon as she saw Flint in Alan's room?" John added.

"Or how about the idiot who let him escape in the first place?" Virgil tossed in.

"No, its Kate's fault," Sarah said. When all eyes turned on her, they were surprised at how cold those usually brilliant green eyes were. "You should have killed him when you had the chance."

Kate sighed. "If I knew then what I know now, paperwork be damned – I would have killed the bastard. I mean – eight women in New York, three in Chicago and two boys in Florida. Who knows how many others he may have killed?"

"All life is precious," Virgil argued.

Sarah glared at her fiancé. "That monster comes near my baby, I'll be pulling his testicles out of his nostrils." That said, the redhead stalked off.

"Um," Virgil stuttered, "I, um – I better go after her." He quickly ran after his fiancée.

John gave a small smile before holding his hand out to Kate. "C'mon. I need to remind Emmy she needs to take a nap for the baby's sake. Why don't you go keep an eye on Scott and make sure he doesn't completely freak out?"

"Sounds like a plan," Kate agreed as the pair began to leave the room. Pausing in the doorway, Kate addressed Jeff.

"Mr. Tracy – are you coming?"

Jeff twirled a pen between his fingers. "I'll be along in a little while. I never did get all my work finished."

Kate nodded. She understood. Work had always been a refuge for her family when life became too stressful. At John's quick tug to her arm, she smiled and followed him down to the infirmary.

Making sure all of the other island occupants were, well, occupied, Jeff secured the door before he sat down at his desk. Pulling out some papers from his briefcase, Jeff froze when the movie tickets fell onto the desk top.

Picking up the tickets with shaking fingers, Jeff felt tears begin to trail down his cheeks. "Oh, God, Lucy…I can't seem to keep our baby safe. I'm sorry, Luc – I failed you. All you ever wanted was for me to keep our boys safe. We promised each other we would do that. I'm so sorry, Luc."

The scent of lilacs surrounded Jeff and he was sure he could feel his late wife's arms around him. _"You have done everything you could, Rocket Man. I'll let you break down for five minutes max, and then get back to taking care of our family."_

Jeff chuckled through his tears, reveling in the feel of being held once more by Lucy. "I will Lucy. I will. Just promise me you'll stay with me."

"_Trust me – I have never left you. And I never will…"_

* * *

><p>Emily stood up, stretching lightly, before picking up a small tray she had pre-prepared. Setting it up next to Alan's bed, she turned and smiled at the door when Kate entered, followed by John.<p>

"I was hoping for Virgil or Sarah," the physician said softly.

"What are you doing?" Scott quietly asked.

"Drops and covering Alan's eyes," Emily explained. "And I want to check his wound site."

Scott nodded, looking up in appreciation when Kate put her arms around him as John assisted Emily. While Emily treated Alan's eyes, Scott just watched. But when she began to remove the bandages from the teen's head and the eldest Tracy son saw the wound that could have easily killed his youngest brother, his composure seemed to slip.

"Oh, Allie," Scott whispered softly, tears gathering in his eyes.

Kate bit her lower lip, at a loss at what to do. Then she could have sworn she felt her late grandfather nudge her while she equally would have vowed that Alan Eppes' cologne teased her nose.

"Hey, Scott," Kate quietly said. "I finished going over that job prospective. I'm going to take the job."

"Does that mean you wanna stick around?" Scott asked as he glanced over at her, offering her a smile that she happily returned.

"Yeah," Kate smiled. "That's what it means."

John and Emily exchanged a look of satisfaction. Seeing Scott happy, even in the face of all that was happening, was a relief for them all.

Even Alan, lying limply on the bed, heard his family's voices and his heart felt lighter. Scott had sacrificed so much for the family – for him – over the years. But Kate would take care of the one who had always taken care of the rest of the family. It was perfect.

Now if he could only see the future as clearly as he could picture it.

* * *

><p>Flint continued to glare at the reporter as she discussed the recent bombing at Tracy Towers.<p>

"_Confidential sources are now questioning what part, if any, alleged hero JP Horne had with the bombing itself. Young Mr. Horne was the only employee on duty in that area at the time and, as a chemistry major, certainly would have known how to put the explosive device together. If he is to have been found to have complacent in the incident, his heroic actions in saving the life of billionaire Jeff Tracy's youngest son, Alan, may be cast in a whole new light? Was it guilt that drove JP Horne? Or did New York's Bravest stop him before he could carry out further harm to the scion on the closest thing America has to royalty?"_

Ana Nevada smiled at the camera. The Tracy Family was news and she wasn't about to let this die to small blurbs.

"_Whatever the results of the FBI investigation, the results remain the same. JP Horne and fellow Tracy employee, Lisa McKenna, are still both dead – young lives ended before their times. And the Tracy family, as well as all of New York, are shaken to their core, as the cold finger of terrorism once more touches our lives. This is Ana Nevada, live, outside Tracy Towers."_

Flint shook his head. How had that reporter found out? But he had to snicker at JP being played as a criminal mastermind. Oh, well, if it cut back the attention on him…

"Who the hell leaked that to the press?" Marc Henricks, the head of the New York office of the FBI snapped as he reached up and turned off the set that was located in the bullpen.

Daria Delgado leaned against the door frame to her office as she gestured at the set. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not sure Nevada actually knows anything. Several times her "unnamed sources" have been proven to be nothing more than her imagination. But occasionally Nevada manages to strike it dead on."

"What are the odds this kid did have something to do with what happened?" Henricks asked.

"At first I would have said slim to none," Sanders shrugged. "But the more we dug? He was living in an apartment, with an alleged invalid relative who has seemingly disappeared. Further, indications are that at least three people were living there and there was nothing to show that any of them were ill. A cigarette butt found in a window frame of the apartment is being tested for DNA, as Horne apparently never smoked. The apartment was pre-paid for, by a Western Union Draft. The name given to Western Union was a phony, as the ID belonged to a man that died three years ago."

"Also," Daria added, "Horne had been offered his old summer job back at the store his sister works at, as well as a position at his school. The two jobs would have paid him almost as much as he was earning from Tracy. Plus, he would have stayed at home – no expenses."

"With the jobs," Greg Sanders kicked in, "he could have been trying to get in with a smaller Tracy office. It's well-known that the company encourages its employees to continue their education. His e-mail showed he had received a scholarship application as well as forwarding his resume to the Chicago office."

"So he may have just been living with someone he thought his sister wouldn't approve of?" Henricks surmised.

"Possibly," Daria conceded. "We need more info."

"So get it," Henricks ordered. "You won't get anything done standing around here."

"Yes, sir," Daria said, trying not to laugh when her partner rolled his eyes. They had actually been heading out the door when their boss had stopped them. But there was no way she was going to admit that to the micromanager.

"C'mon, Double D," Sanders teased. "Let's go see if they have the DNA back yet on the cigarette."

"They won't," Daria grumbled. "And that better not be a reference to my baby boobs." Her post pregnancy curves had resulted in some teasing from her partner and she was seriously considering some stress relief – like using him for target practice.

"Yeah," Sanders admitted. "But that cute new lab tech should be down there…"

"Gosh," Daria gasped. "Wouldn't want to mess with your love life."

Sanders just grinned as they left the office, looking for more clues to a puzzle that just kept becoming more bizarre by the day.

* * *

><p>Silence. Silence finally filled Brittany Horne's small home. It had taken a great deal of persuasion, but she had gotten the last person – not surprisingly, Aunt Lydia – to leave her alone for a little while.<p>

But what had comforted Brittany for a moment now began to bother her, so she quickly turned on the television to get some background noise. The reporter from earlier…Hannah Montana? Oh, no – Ana Nevada – was on the air.

Seeing it was about the bombing, Brittany watched the story, becoming increasingly angry as the woman spoke.

"…_what part, if any, alleged hero JP Horne had with the bombing itself. Young Mr. Horne was the only employee on duty in that area at the time and, as a chemistry major, certainly would have known how to put the explosive device together. If he is to have been found to have complacent in the incident, his heroic actions in saving the life of billionaire Jeff Tracy's youngest son, Alan, may be cast in a whole new light? Was it guilt that drove JP Horne? Or did New York's Bravest stop him before he could carry out further harm to the scion on the closest thing America has to royalty?"_

_"Whatever the results of the FBI investigation, the results remain the same. JP Horne and fellow Tracy employee, Lisa McKenna, are still both dead – young lives ended before their times. And the Tracy family, as well as all of New York, are shaken to their core, as the cold finger of terrorism once more touches our lives. This is-"_

"NO!" Brittany screamed as she turned off the set viciously. "How dare you?" she seethed. "How dare you malign my baby brother when he isn't here to defend himself? I won't let you do it. I won't let you destroy the only thing left of Jeffy – his good name."

Standing up, Brittany headed back to the bedroom. The funeral would be tomorrow. She would be gone by the day after. It was time for her to defend her brother and bring the person or persons responsible for his death to justice. Pulling out her suitcase from a shelf in the closet, Brittany was startled when a shoe box fell down as well.

Bending down, Brittany opened the box and found her father's old gun. Checking the weapon, she could see it was still loaded. Nodding, she wrapped in an old shirt of Jeffy's she had been placed on the bed, having found it when she had sorted laundry the day he had died.

"Don't worry, Jeffy," Brittany said through her tears. "Sissy will make it all better. I promise."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN - Ah, yes...Moving along. Well, storywise. Still not moving along that well myself. But enough of that -_**

**_Alan - Hell, yeah - enough of that!_**

**_Scott - Alan - language!_**

**_Alan - Scott, she introduced another psycho!_**

**_CC - Yes, but is she a good psycho or a bad psycho?_**

**_Alan - There's a difference?_**

**_CC - It's subtle but it's there._**

**_Scott - You're scary._**

**_CC - Yep. Yep, I am._**

**_Scott - Lady, what are we gonna do with you?_**

**_CC - Eat?_**

**_Alan - Eat?_**

**_CC - Potato cheese bake and red velvet cake._**

**_Scott - You know, food won't always work._**

**_CC (scoffs) - It will as long as I write the convos._**

**_Alan - She has a point, Scott. Besides, this potato cheese bake has ham._**

**_CC - Yep, you boys eat - and if I get enough reviews, I will update again on Saturday. And wait 'til you see what happens next. I love reviews. May not have chance to answer all of them - I know I miss a couple - but I love them. _**

**_Scott - Do I want to know what happens next?_**

_**CC - Nah, it could ruin your appetite.**_


	15. Chapter 15

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - Do not own the Thunderbirds. Still have a gimpy leg and bad headcold with a real scratchy throat. But I did promise - enough reviews and I will update. OK, so I didn't answer all the reviews - would you like an answer or another chapter._**

**_That what I thought. So here it is._**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

_One week later._

If anyone had asked Jeff Tracy about how the next week had passed, he wouldn't have given days. He would have listed "what happened next".

First, John went back to Thunderbird Five. Emily missed her husband, but the success of the ground communication system had comforted Jeff in knowing that if needed, they could run International Rescue from the Island. It just worked better in space. Plus, John wanted to finish his new book before the baby came.

The evening that John had returned to space, Alan was able to sit up and eat a full meal for the first time since the explosion. Emily had assured the Tracys that it was a good sign.

Soon, Alan was anxious to get out of bed and the Tracys were equally reluctant to let him. A compromise of being in a wheel chair and escorted at all times was allowed.

The wrappings around Alan's head were removed and replaced by a bandage which disappeared the day Virgil removed the stitches. Teleconferences with Dr. Simone assured the medics of the Island that Alan was recovering better than expected – if you ignored the fact that he still couldn't see anything.

But the sunglasses that Dr. Simone had suggested had become more common on Alan's face, especially if he was out of the infirmary. Bright light seemed to bother Alan, causing headaches. It gave hope to the neurologist that the swelling was lessening, at least enough for strong light to affect Alan.

The day before, Alan had been allowed back to his own room – much to his relief. It had saddened Jeff to watch his youngest son walk – the wheelchair was gone – into his bedroom and run his fingers along his books. When Alan was sick, one of the few things the boy liked to do was curl up and get lost in a book. After he got to the end of his bookcase, Alan gingerly felt his way over to his bed and lay down with a sigh that would break the hardest heart.

So Jeff had thought it a good idea for Alan to get a bit of sunshine. For that reason, Jeff was doing paperwork on the lanai and had set his youngest son in a chair next to him. With several of Alan's favorite books now downloaded as audio books to his i-Pad, the teenager was listening to the story with his ear buds in.

"Hey, Sprout!" Gordon cheerfully called out when he passed his father and brother, tossing his towel at Alan's head. The teen grabbed the towel mid-air and tossed it back at his red-headed sibling with an annoyed grunt.

Jeff and Gordon had both frozen. Finally, Gordon spoke.

"Yo, Sprout – how'd you do that?"

"Your smell."

Gordon shook his head. "Huh?" he finally questioned.

Alan sighed. "Your clothes, even you, have a faint scent. Most prevalent is a combination of seawater and chlorine. You did your morning swim in the ocean, right?" Without waiting for an answer, Alan continued.

"As soon as I smelled it, I hit pause and waited to see what you would do. Dad inhaled, like he wanted to say something just as you called out – and stop calling me Sprout – and I felt something coming towards my head. So, assuming you don't want to be tasked with scrubbing down all the 'Birds – and I think Dad would include Five in that – it wasn't going to be anything heavy or dangerous, just annoying, much like yourself. So here's your towel, now let me get back to my book."

Jeff smiled as he returned to his work. Alan could certainly hold his own against his brothers, even blinded.

"C'mon, Sprout – you are wearing trunks. Why not come in the pool?"

"Gordon," Jeff cautioned, "I'm not sure if that is such a good idea."

"Let's ask Emily," Gordon challenged.

As if on cue, the family doctor came up the path, animatedly talking on her phone. Hanging up just as she reached the lanai, Emily grinned. "Cedar-Sinai AND New York Presbyterian are on-board as partners! Sweet!"

"OK, Em," Gordon groaned, "you have definitely been hanging with Alan too much."

"Hey, don't look at me," Alan grumbled even as Kate came outside, holding a file.

"Mr. Tracy -" she began before Jeff interrupted her.

"Kate," he sighed. "I've told you, you can call me Jeff."

Kate frowned. "Mr. Tracy, how many of your employees call you Jeff? And," she countered before he could say how many did. "Not to mention, I officially don't work for you yet."

"You do realize," Emily said as she propped up her feet, "you will lose this argument. Tracy men are rather stubborn."

Grinning, Kate responded, "Sweet! I love a good argument. Makes me feel at home."

Alan chuckled. "Told you to leave me out of it, Gordy. You guys do realize if the girls ever decide to gang up against you, you are in trouble."

Gordon snorted. "I am in the clear. But what about your girl?"

Tin-Tin chose that moment to come out. "I'll side with Alan. Probably." Turning to Emily, she said, "Mom wanted to know if you wanted your green tea."

Emily sighed. "I want some regular tea."

"Caffeine is bad for you, or at least the baby," Tin-Tin countered before heading back inside.

Jeff grinned. "Now we know that baby is a Tracy."

Emily glared at her father-in-law. "Was there any doubt, Dad?"

Standing quickly, Jeff backtracked. "Let's get you to the living room. You can have your tea there."

Kate followed, tapping the file once. "And I have an idea for updating the security at the Towers. I found some issues you may want to handle as quickly as possible."

Jeff nodded. "Will do, Kate." Placing a hand on Alan's shoulder, he asked, "Ready to head in, Alan?"

"C'mon, Dad," Gordon nearly whined. "He can come in the pool, can't he Em?"

Emily smiled slightly and glanced at her father-in-law. Gordon had been somewhat withdrawn since he had returned from Lisa's funeral a few days earlier and it was something of a relief.

"OK," Emily agreed. "Just keep an eye on him. And Alan?" she said waiting for the youngest Tracy to turn towards her. "If you feel off at all, get out of the water. You are still having some dizzy spells. I don't want you in the water if that happens."

Alan nodded even as he stood, pulling off his tee. "Alright, Em. You need to keep off your feet. We want my niece to be healthy, right?"

"Alan," Jeff chuckled. "How many girls -"

"Dad," Alan interrupted before he could start the same old argument again. "How many blonde Tracys before Johnny and me?" At the silence, Alan grinned and allowed Gordon to take him by the elbow as he called over his shoulder.

"I rest my case."

Watching as his two youngest boys went into the pool, Jeff smiled. Alan would probably be able to get his sight back soon, but no matter what, one credo rang true – the older boys took care of the younger.

* * *

><p>Carl Patrick exited Tracy Towers, thinking about the e-mail he had received from Kate Eppes. Apparently, the soon-to-be Tracy employee (also soon-to-be-ex-FBI Agent) had noticed a flaw in the security system. She had not given specifics, but with Jeff coming back in less than a week with a still blind Alan, Carl knew his boss would want everything secure.<p>

He was so caught up in the schematics that he never even saw Mitchell come up behind him. But he felt that stunning blow to the back of his head…

Then he felt nothing at all.

Jackson Mitchell looked down at his former co-worker closely. He had been unsure of what to do when he had seen Carl Patrick moving closer towards him, muttering about checking the security system in the loading docks. Mitchell had been sure that no one knew about the weakness in the system, that the computer scanner didn't update with the rest of the system. He had put that in himself. Any other location in the company – hell, any other entrance in the Towers itself – and Mitchell's old badge, as well as one he had "borrowed" from a fellow employee, had been in a lock box all this time, just waiting for the right time to be used.

This would be the right time. When the big man himself came back. Mitchell just had to wait. He would get in, make sure his other backdoors were still available - But Patrick here could ruin everything. Holding the old lead pipe he had found in the alley where he had been hiding, spying on everything, Mitchell got ready to make sure the head of security wouldn't be a problem –

"Hey!" Mitchell looked up to see a security officer from the Towers begin to run towards him. Dropping his makeshift weapon, he ran the other way. At the end of the alley, he risked a glance back to see the guard leaning over Patrick's still body and talking on a radio in his hand.

Running once more, Mitchell decided discretion was the better part of valor. He would return but hopefully one more thorn in his side had been removed.

* * *

><p>"C'mon, Al," Gordon joked. "We can have an awesome game of water volleyball."<p>

"I think you'd have me at a disadvantage," Alan responded sharply, feeling his way gingerly around the pool.

"We're in the water," Gordon snorted. "I can beat all of you, any time in my home turf."

"You keep telling yourself that," Alan snarked, pushing in the general direction he heard his older brother. A splash assured him that while he may have missed Gordon, he had at least thrown fish-face off balance.

Gordon grimaced as he shook himself off. "Brat," he grumbled as he decided on a bit of payback. "Tackle!" he hollered, throwing himself at Alan.

Alan heard the shout and felt the water go over his head. Any other time he would have opened his eyes and looked up, reaching towards the light. But without his sight, up was down, right was wrong…he had no way to know which way to turn.

Sucking in his breath to yell, Alan was terrified to realize that he had just made a huge mistake. Instead of inhaling air, water rushed in, making Alan choke and panic even worse. Becoming more frantic, Alan's abused lungs cut off all air and soon he felt the world itself start to slip away…

* * *

><p>Tin-Tin smiled from the kitchen where she had been helping her mother. Watching her boyfriend goof around in the pool with Gordon had lightened her heart considerably. Alan was so terrified that the future he had planned – one, she thought happily, that was to include her – was going to be denied him. Maybe he was beginning to accept that even if he stayed blind, there was still a future for him.<p>

And, for her as well.

Seeing Alan push towards Gordon, Tin-Tin chuckled when the redhead lost his balance and fell in the water. Hearing her daughter's amusement, Onaha looked over and smiled, moving towards the open door.

But when Gordon retaliated and Alan went under, both mother and daughter felt their heart skip a beat. Then when Alan failed to resurface, they panicked. Tin-Tin ran out to the pool, diving in to reach her boyfriend while Onaha began to yell.

"Mr. Tracy!" the Malaysian woman screamed frantically. "Mr. Tracy!"

Jeff ran into the room, Kate and Emily on his heels. At Onaha's hysterical, "Alan, he went under!" as she pointed to the pool, Jeff quickly went outside, his heart stopping as he saw Tin-Tin draw his unconscious youngest son up in the water. Reaching down, Jeff gently pulled Alan from the pool, laying him flat on the ground.

"Roll him to the side," Emily commanded as she knelt beside the silent teen.

Jeff and Emily began to frantically work on Alan, as Kate held a hysterical Tin-Tin. In the pool, Gordon stared in horror. He hadn't even realized that Alan had been in trouble. His little brother had almost died and it was his entire fault.

The breath Gordon hadn't even realized he had been holding was released when Alan began to cough.

"Pick him up, Dad," Emily said gently. "We need to get him to the infirmary."

"Dad," Gordon began as he climbed out of the pool, only to freeze when Jeff glared at him.

"Not now," Jeff said in quiet anger. "I have to see to your brother." With that said, he and Emily quickly left, Tin-Tin composing herself to run after them.

Kate put an arm around the Gordon's shoulders. "It will be alright," she murmured, holding him much as she had Tin-Tin. "He knows you would never really hurt him."

"Alan knows," Gordon asked sadly. "Or Dad?"

"Does it matter which?" Kate replied.

Shrugging off her arm, Gordon headed into the villa. He may not be welcome by Alan's side, but he knew that was exactly where he had to be.

* * *

><p>Daria thumbed through the file photos taken from the apartment that JP Horne had been living in. There was so little evidence…While there was almost no doubt now that JP had somehow been involved in the bombing, every instinct that the FBI agent had said that the boy had only been a minor cog in the wheel.<p>

Looking up when her partner entered, Daria gave a small grunt. "You find anything, Grego?"

Agent Sanders frowned at Daria, flopping down in front of her desk. "I finally hit luck with one of Horne's college classmates. Seems the kid thought he could make some quick money in an underground poker game. Horne did pretty good before he not only lost everything he had made, brought and was in debt beyond his ability to repay."

"Did the friend say if he knew what happened next?" Daria asked.

Sanders nodded. "Apparently someone bought up Horne's markers and said the kid would be working for him for the summer. Horne was afraid it would be illegal but was more afraid of the guy selling his markers. It was basically implied that the people who would buy the markers would go after Horne's sister. Considering he went to the poker games to make money to help the sister, it could be he was afraid of her being disappointed in him or even hurt."

"What does the sister have to say?" Daria questioned.

Greg squirmed for a moment before muttering, "_wecan'tfindher"_ so quickly Daria wasn't sure what she heard.

"Did you just say you can't find her?" Daria asked in astonishment.

Nodding again, Greg sighed. "We decided to wait until after the funeral to talk to her. But she disappeared. Her employer said she called and said she needed to take some time off. They weren't given a return date."

Daria looked thoughtful. "OK – gut instinct. What do you think she knows?"

Sanders was quiet for a moment. "I think all she knows is that her only family, the little brother she gave up everything for, is dead. What Brittany Horne does next is anyone's guess."

* * *

><p>Jennie Harrises smiled at the young woman in front of her, loving moments like this in her job placement agency. "Well, you are lucky, young lady," she beamed. "I just got an opening for a key holder for a coffee shop. You would start work at four in the morning but if you work hard, you can really work your way up."<p>

Brittany Horne nodded. How far could she advance at a coffee shop? Not that it mattered. She was just looking for a job to provide her with a chance to stay in New York and discover what had really happened to her little brother.

Jennie leaned forward, patting the young woman's hand. "It's not just any coffee shop, honey. It's the one in the lobby of Tracy Towers. You will be working for one of the biggest companies in the world! And Jeff Tracy has a long established policy of hiring from within. I placed a young man in the mailroom three years ago; he is now attending college and working in data entry. Once he gets his degree, he'll be put into a training program for the company, with the chance to go to any number of offices around the world. You work hard, Tracy Enterprises will be willing to help you further your education and really become someone."

Tracy Enterprises? Brittany blinked in surprise. Fate was on her side. She had an in at the place where her little brother had died. Soon she would know the truth.

Whether she liked it or not.

* * *

><p>Jeff brushed back Alan's wet hair, looking up when Emily came to stand on the other side of the bed.<p>

"There was no further damage, Dad," Emily assured him. "I think he just panicked under water."

"Are you sure, Emily?" Jeff asked. "We can take him to the hospital."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Emily assured her father-in-law him. "Alan's stats alllook good. I would recommend that he spend the night, just in case."

"Is he really gonna be alright?" Gordon asked softly from the doorway.

"Gordy?" Alan murmured from the bed, stirring slightly.

In half a heartbeat, Gordon was across the room, placing a hand on Alan's arm. "Right here, Allie. I'm so sorry. I forgot."

Alan smiled. "I know. That was awesome."

"Awesome, Alan?" Jeff said in dismay. "You could have drowned."

"But Dad," Alan argued. "Gordy forgot. He treated me like normal. I hope – I really, really, hope – that I will get my sight back soon. But what if I don't? Do I still get to be a member of this family? Will I be treated as a china doll, something to be put on a shelf – look, but don't touch?"

"Of course not, Alan -" Jeff started only for Alan to interrupt.

"Then don't be mad at Gordon for being himself – and for his treating me the same as he always had." Alan grinned. "Even if that is being a jerk, since that is normal for him."

Emily sighed when Gordon just grinned and Jeff rolled his eyes. She patted her stomach and softly whispered, "Normal, baby – it's all relative."


	16. Chapter 16

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Don't own. Now, onto more important things...I could have answered more reviews (I did answer some...) Or I could post. Figured you prefer this. Happy Thanksgiving to all the Yanks. To everyone else - Have a nice day.)**_

_**Oh - and I also don't own the song "Crazy Girl". I just listen to it - lots.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

"Alan," Kate said softly. "Alan – wake up."

When Alan just murmured and pushed his face more into the car seat, Scott waived Kate aside. "I got him,"Scott said gently, reaching into the sedan and pulling Alan into his arms with a grunt.

"Not as easy to do at sixteen as six," he jokingly complained.

Jeff smiled back at the sight of his oldest holding his youngest. "Wuss. I carried and put him in the car when we left the hospital."

"How long did you carry him and how long was he in a wheelchair?"Kate teased, before holding up a hand. "And Emily will rat you out if you try and fib."

"Alan's right," Jeff muttered. "We are in trouble if they unite."

Since he was carrying his and Alan's luggage – and Scott had Alan – Jeff had given the pass card that accessed the private elevator from the garage to the penthouse to Kate. Jeff wanted to keep Alan's condition quiet for as long as he could. Hopefully, the doctor would tell him at their appointment tomorrow that the swelling was reducing and they could tell if Alan's blindness was permanent or not.

Exiting the elevator into the hall, Jeff set down the luggage to place his hand on the security pad. "We'll need to get you added to this, Kate," Jeff said.

"That's a bit premature," Kate began to argue even as she opened the door so Scott could carry Alan in.

Jeff simply raised an eyebrow at her as Scott vanished to the bedrooms to put Alan down. "Kate – Scott is way too much like me. It's not premature – it's advance planning."

Scott came back out and patted his father on the back. "Sprout is wiped. I don't think he slept much last night. And if we are going to make the rehearsal dinner, we'll need to get Tracy One back in the air."

"You'll call as soon as you know something, right?" Kate asked as they walked towards the door.

Jeff shook his head. "The appointment should be getting out just as Jeannie is walking down the aisle. I'm scared of what Millie would do if I interrupted her baby girl's big day. Why don't you call me after the reception? That way, even if the appointment runs late, I can conference the whole family in?"

"Sounds good, Dad," Scott said warmly, giving his father a quick hug. "Take care of Allie – let him know…"Scott's voice trailed off.

"He knows, Scooter," Jeff gently responded. "Whatever else, Alan knows how much you love him. Oh," he remembered suddenly. "Can you check on your grandparents' place while you are there? I may be leasing out the land, but I haven't had a chance to check on the property itself for a while. In fact, you could probably stay there. The barn is still used for storage and the house is kept clean and useable."

"We were planning on it," Scott said. "Jeannie said between a few of her old Marine buddies and Billy's relatives, the closest hotel is solidly booked."

Getting in the elevator, Kate nudged Scott. "The hotel is so not all booked. I checked."

Scott shrugged even as he grinned. "Yeah, but Dad keeps a couple of bedrooms ready at the farmhouse. Guess he likes to have it as if Grandma just went to the city for the weekend. Of course," he whispered into her ear, "we'll only need the one bedroom."

"You think your father won't check with Millie to see if two bedrooms were used?" Kate asked wryly. "According to Alan, your dad has Millie keep an eye on both your old house and your grandparents'."

"Damn," Scott muttered. "And she would tell."

"Of course," Kate whispered as she snagged the car keys from Scott. "I've always had a fantasy about a cowboy and a barn on a moonlit night…"

"Yee-ha," Scott shouted as he picked Kate up and carried her to the car, both of them laughing. Finally, everything was going right…

* * *

><p>Alan stirred on the bed as Jeff watched him from the doorway, his smiled tinged with fear. He wanted so badly for Alan to just be safe and happy. But then, he wanted that for all his boys.<p>

Thinking of his other sons brought a broader smile to his face. Scott was happy, even with what was happening now, and Jeff knew it was because of Kate Eppes. Scott had confided to Jeff that he planned to propose while in Kansas and even had Lucy's engagement ring, with Jeff's blessing. He knew the pair had been intimate already but he also knew they had respected his wishes about certain behavior while on the Island.

Remembering one visit to his parents' farm back when he and Lucy were first engaged, Jeff smile grew wider. His parents had been even more old-fashioned than he was and he thought the pair of them had been so clever, making love in the old barn late one night. If Scott and Kate followed suit, he hoped the couple was better about birth control than he had been.

He would have trouble keeping a straight face if Scott's first child was conceived in the same place he had been.

* * *

><p>There was a protocol to being on Thunderbird Five. Even if there was no emergency, no rescues, you called in once a day for status updates. When John was up on the space station, Emily had long ago learned to be in Jeff's office on Tracy Island at the designated time.<p>

"Hey, Starman," Emily said softly.

"We got you now as a Thunderbird?" John teased even as Emily propped her feet up.

"Funny," Emily said with a laugh. "No, Sarah and I had flown over to the mainland together but I had come back without her so Virgil went to bring her home for a few days."

"So," John mused as he twirled a stylus through his fingers. "Does that mean she will be staying with you while Kate is in Kansas?"

Emily sighed. "Yes, that is what it means. I am not the first woman to have a baby, you know?"

John shrugged. "You are the first woman on the Island to have one. And you have had a few problems, remember?"

Nodding, Emily gave a small smile. "I know. I just think we have bigger things to worry about."

"Emmy," John sighed. "Alan will be fine. Dr. Simone said it was a very positive sign that bright light was giving Alan headaches. It means that even if he can't tell, light is getting through. The swelling will go down and Alan will be fine."

"From your mouth to God's ears," Emily said, recalling what her grandfather used to say.

Gordon came into the room at that moment, patting Emily on the shoulder. "What's up, Doc?"

Emily glared at the redhead. "Gordon, that joke was old before I married John."

John chuckled. "Emmy, that joke was old before we were born."

"Any word from Dad?" Gordon asked.

"Gordo," John sighed. "The appointment isn't until tomorrow. However,"he added, "Scott and Kate have safely landed in Kansas after a quick New York detour. Alan was asleep – you were right, Em – he barely slept before he left the Island. Too nervous, I guess."

Gordon nodded. "His whole life could change because of this. If he doesn't get his sight back..."

"Let's not go there, guys," Emily said. "C'mon, Spongebob – let's go get a bite to eat."

"OK," Gordon said, "just watch the guacamole. I mean, really…How many uses can you find for it?"

"Hey," Emily argued. "I didn't put it on the brownies."

Watching his sister-in-law leave the room, Gordon frowned before looking at his space-bound brother with a raised eyebrow. "She's kidding, right? PLEASE – tell me she's kidding."

"She's kidding, Gordo," John chuckled before sobering quickly. "At least – I think she was."

On that nauseating thought, John disconnected the call, leaving a rather queasy brother staring at the darkened screen.

* * *

><p>Jeff gently shook Alan awake. "Hey, Al – time to get up. Dinner is ready."<p>

Yawning, Alan stretched and sat up on the bed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to crash and burn like that. So…what did you order?"

"I'll have you know," Jeff said sharply, "that I can cook."

"Dad," Alan sighed. "You can make grilled cheese sandwiches and mac and cheese – and you can only do the second if you have some blue and yellow boxes in the pantry."

Abashed, Jeff muttered. "Spaghetti, too – if I have a jar of sauce."

Chuckling, Alan let his father lead him to the kitchen. "MMM – Trenia's grilled surf and turf, right?"

"OK," Jeff admitted. "But what is the surf tonight?" Trenia's Restaurant, a five star establishment near Tracy Towers, randomly switched out what was the "surf" in their "surf and turf", although the beef was always a New York Strip Steak.

Alan sniffed again before grinning. "Grilled scallops, I would have to say."

Jeff chuckled. "Yes – you are good at this."

"I'm a Tracy," Alan joked, feeling his way into his seat. Gingerly touching to make sure he knew where everything was, he turned to his father.

"You have everything set up or do you need some help?"

Jeff bristled. "I have it all set. You think I can't do this?"

Alan picked up his glass of ice tea and took a sip. "Why didn't Ann-Marie stay for dinner?"

"Her niece is in town…" Jeff started absently, before looking up, startled. "How did you know Ann-Marie was here?"

Grinning, Alan ate a scallop before answering. "I didn't hear the doorbell and either Ann-Marie or Carl would be the only people besides family who can access the apartment." That was true, even when someone came in for maintenance or cleaning, Ann-Marie had to let them in, although Carl did sometimes.

"And," Alan continued, "Carl wouldn't have cut my steak for me." To prove his point, he stabbed a piece of beef with his fork and quickly devoured it.

"I might have," Jeff muttered.

"Dad," Alan joked, "Ann-Marie was doing that since I was a little kid. And you would have, if you had thought of it. However. I can still cut my own meat and you would respect that. Ann-Marie still sees me in Huggies."

Jeff smiled softly. Alan may not realize it, but Ann-Marie wasn't the only one who still thought of him as a baby.

The two Tracys sat and enjoyed the meal, talking about anything and everything – except for the reason for their New York sojourn. It was hard to accept how frightening any other possibility than Alan's total recovery would be.

* * *

><p>Scott Tracy walked in the door of Millie's Café, letting the screen door slam quietly behind him.<p>

"Sorry," Millie called out. "We're closed for the next – couple – of…" Millie's voice trailed off as she came out of the kitchen. Seeing the oldest son of her oldest friend, Millie beamed.

"Scooter!" she called out cheerfully before running over and pulling him into a tight hug.

"Scooter?" Kate teased as she otherwise silently entered the diner.

"Old nickname," Scott muttered while Kate snickered. "And I wouldn't say anything "Katie-Bear"."

Kate glowered at him while Millie Bates looked her over. "So you're Scott's girl. My, my – aren't you just the prettiest thing? Where do you Tracy boys find them?"

"Oh, here and there," a new voice drawled.

Scott whirled around and pulled the tall, willowy brunette into his arms. "Jeannie!" he laughed as he spun her in the air.

"Put me down, you air jockey," Jean Bates protested, laughing.

"Whatever you say, jarhead," Scott joked as he let her fall. As she quickly righted herself, Jean laughed again.

"Jerk," the deputy chuckled before turning to Kate and holding out a hand. "Jean Bates, soon to be Landman. You must be Katherine Eppes."

"Kate," the FBI agent corrected, shrugging. "I hear Katherine and expect to be in trouble. It must be easier with a name like Jean."

Scott started to snicker drawing a puzzled look from Kate and a glare from Jean. "You say one word Scott and I'll -"

"Bertha Jean Bates," Millie admonished. "You will act like a lady, you hear me? We have to get to your rehearsal dinner with your soon-to-be in-laws, and you are getting married tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Mama," Jean sighed as she held the door open for her mother before sticking her tongue out at Scott. Before he could say anything, Millie called back to her daughter.

"And act your age, young lady!"

"Yes, Mama," Jean sighed again as Scott put an arm around her shoulder.

"Some things never change, do they?" Scott muttered.

Jean looked at Kate as she pulled the door close behind them and went to Scott's other side. "And some things do – but for the better, huh?"

Scott's smile was the best present he could have given his old friend. Everything was perfect…

* * *

><p>"Perfect," Mitchell mumbled as he clicked a few keys on the computer.<p>

"What's perfect?" Flint mumbled as he chewed on a sandwich as he entered the room.

Mitchell looked up with a cold smile. "Jeff Tracy arrived in New York, accompanied by his youngest and oldest sons, and Kate Eppes."

"_She's _here?" Flint choked.

"Nah," Mitchell sneered. "She left with the oldest son – Scott. It's just Jeff and Alan Tracy. And the kid is still blind."

"But otherwise recovered?" Flint asked, thumbing through the images Mitchell had downloaded from the last time Alan Tracy had been in New York. That kid had such a perfect balance of attractiveness and innocence…He wanted that – badly.

Mitchell looked at Flint with a combination of anticipation and disgust. Disgust because if it had been any other kid, Mitchell would have slit Flint's throat before he even let the perv near him.

Too bad Alan was Jeff Tracy's kid – and nothing hurt Tracy like someone hurting one of his boys.

* * *

><p>Sitting in Grandma Tracy's old bedroom, Kate hung up the dress she would be wearing to the wedding the next day. She had had a great time at the rehearsal dinner, Scott's old friends happy to see him – and thrilled that he had found a woman that he clearly loved. Jean and Scott had been joking about someone named "Keifer" who, apparently, would be at the wedding in the morning but was working that night.<p>

"_I tried to get Amos to make him work all weekend," Jean had grumbled. Scott had just shrugged and put an arm around her. With a grin, he gestured at Kate. _

"_Think Fed beats Local Yokel?" _

_With a phrase that usually was like waving a red flag in front of local law enforcement, Kate smiled when Jean looked thoughtful. _

Before Jean could say anything, her mother had come over, dragging yet another person who had known the Tracys back in Bailey. Finally, they had gone their separate ways, wanting to head home and prepare for the wedding in the morning.

Kate came out of the bedroom, wondering why the house was so quiet. Peeking into the room she had seen Scott go in earlier, Kate grinned. Looking at the space themed memorabilia, she was clearly looking at Jeff Tracy's childhood room.

But – no Scott. Glancing around the house as she made her way to the front door, Kate recalled what Scott told her as they had pulled in front of the more than a century old farmhouse.

"_I wonder if the historical society has been calling Dad again," Scott murmured as he put the car into park and climbed out._

_Kate looked confused. "Why would the historical society call your father?" Kate knew a bit of something about historical homes. Her uncle's home was a Craftsman house._

_Scott smiled wistfully. "OK, there is the fact that this is this was the home of one of the most famous people to ever come out of Kansas. But when you go into the house itself? Let's just say it looks like a time capsule."_

A time capsule was a clear description of Grandma Tracy's home. Lace doilies, antique furniture that was well-used if equally well-maintained, pictures that lined the walls and graced tabletops, some clearly going back to the first members of the family to live in the farmhouse, filled the house. Frankly, Kate thought it was kind of sad that no one lived there anymore, as Jeff Tracy had Millie Bates to make sure it was kept clean and ready for a family that never came home.

Exiting the farmhouse, Kate walked across the yard, calling Scott's name. "Scott – hey, Flyboy? Where are you?"

With the rain clouds that had rolled in covering the moon and hiding the stars, the light from the barn was easy to spot. "Scott?" Kate called as she pulled open the old wooden door before freezing in the doorway.

Tiny fairy lights had been strung from rafters, an outdoor fireplace burned cheerfully even as the smoke drifted through a pipe that ran up to the ceiling, while a bottle of wine and two glasses were set on an old wooden table covered with an equally old linen table cloth. Behind the table, Scott stood with a smile.

Coming out, Scott reached down and pressed a button on small cd player. "Dance with me?"

Kate chuckled, her husky laugh sending tendrils of pleasure down Scott's spine as she claimed his hand. They slowly began to dance as music filled the old barn.

_**Crazy girl, don't you know that I love you?  
>And I wouldn't dream of goin' nowhere<br>Silly woman, come here, let me hold you  
>Have I told you lately?<br>I love you like crazy, girl**_

_**Wouldn't miss a single day**_  
><em><strong>I'd probably just fade away<strong>_  
><em><strong>Without you, I'd lose my mind<strong>_  
><em><strong>Before you ever came along<strong>_  
><em><strong>I was livin' life all wrong<strong>_  
><em><strong>Smartest thing I ever did was make you all mine<strong>_

_**Crazy girl, don't you know that I love you?**_  
><em><strong>And I wouldn't dream of goin' nowhere<strong>_  
><em><strong>Silly woman, come here, let me hold you<strong>_  
><em><strong>Have I told you lately?<strong>_  
><em><strong>I love you like crazy, girl<strong>_

"I do love you like crazy," Scott murmured into her hair. "Kate…" he trailed off as he leaned back and looked deeply into her dark brown eyes. Sucking in a breath, he stopped Kate's when he dropped to one knee and pulled a ring from his jean's pocket.

"Katherine Louise Eppes," Scott said formally as he slipped the ring onto her left hand. "Since the moment we met, I have known I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of our lives together. I wanted to walk you under the stars and dance with you when I proposed but," he grinned, "I had to find the stars stored up in the loft of the barn."

Kate ran a finger softly over the ring as she stood, speechless. Her silence was making Scott nervous.

"That was my mother's ring. Took Dad four months of payments before it was his. He made the first payment three days after he met Mom. He always told me, he just knew. That's, well, that's pretty common in our family," Scott grinned again before the smile faded.

"If you don't like it -" Kate interrupted before Scott could complete his sentence.

"Like it?" she asked tearfully. "I love it! Scott, you could get me anything, but giving me your mother's ring? I love it, I love you, yes, I will marry you!"

Scott laughed, twirling her around, kissing her passionately. They lost their balance and fell onto blankets covering some hay that was stored in the barn. Continuing their kisses, they became lost in the moment as the song played on under the Tracy-made starry sky while the rain that had begun to fall drowned out the rest of the world…

**_Crazy girl, don't you know that I love you?  
>And I wouldn't dream of goin' nowhere<br>Silly woman, come here, let me hold you  
>Have I told you lately?<br>I love you like crazy, girl_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN - Ah, a sweet, romantic ending. Don't you love it?_**

**_Alan - Not really. I know you too well. You have something evil planned._**

**_CC - Moi?_**

**_John - Oh, yeah - you. C'mon - spill._**

**_CC - Nope._**

**_Alan - Why not?_**

**_CC - Kinda ruins the story._**

**_John - She does have a point._**

**_Alan (grumbles) Yeah, on her head._**

**_CC - Alan, I can hear you. Now, I can lay out Thanksgiving dinner - Turkey, stuffing and all the twists or you can keep whining how evil I am._**

**_Alan - Got pie?_**

**_CC - Pumpkin right here._**

**_John - No chocolate._**

**_CC (sighs) - Red velvet cake in the bake of the fridge. It's supposed to be for something else but cut a slice. AFTER dinner, John Glenn Tracy!_**

**_Alan (whispers) - She's good at that, isn't she?_**

**_CC - It's a mom thing. Now, enjoy the meal, peace and quiet and remember - stress makes me write trauma and my second job picks up in both stress and hours (cutting into my writing time) this time of year. It is in retail after all. _**

**_John - Does anyone else feel like this is a last meal of a condemned man?_**

**_CC - Nah - this is Criminally Charmed, not Sam1. No Tracys die - at least not permanantly - in my stories. Heck, even a canon established dead person like Lucy still hangs around. So...cheers!_**


	17. Chapter 17

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - Do not own. And I am SOOOO sorry. But ff is EVIL! It won't let me respond to reviews. So, in a nutshell - yes, I am evil, but Flint is a psychopath. And it will be alright and almost everyone comes out of this alive..._**

**_Chapter 17_**

The sun was just starting to think about rising when Alan woke that morning. Heading out to the living room, he turned on the radio, keeping the volume low.

"…_stay tuned for the local news and weather at five AM, just five minutes from now. In the -"_

Alan turned the radio back off and felt his way back into the bedroom, pulling on a pair of jeans and t-shirt before sliding on some deck shoes. Penning a quick note, to his father – and hoping he hadn't written over anything like he had once on the Island – Alan slipped out of the door and headed for the elevator.

Brittany Horne finished making sure everything was ready in the small coffee shop located in the corner of the lobby of Tracy Towers. She had found this job to be perfect to get a lay of the land. The bombing two weeks earlier was still a popular topic. Lisa's death was considered "tragic", Alan Tracy's injuries were "shocking" with people torn in their sympathy for the boy or his father; but Jeffy? As far as most of the employees were concerned, if he had been involved, his death had been too easy on him. But most were of the opinion that until decisive proof was presented, JP was innocent until proven guilty.

"Too bad the media can't think that way," Brittany muttered as she prepared pitchers of juice and water and set the coffee to brew.

"Hello?" a hesitant voice called out.

Brittany turned to see a slender blonde teen with dark glasses and a gentle smile standing in the doorway.

"Are you open?" he asked, causing Brittany to glance at the clock. It was barely five and technically, the shop wasn't open until five thirty…

"I didn't want to wake my dad," the teen explained as he felt his way to the counter. "But, well – I'd love breakfast."

When he removed the glasses to rub the bridge of his nose, Brittany felt her heart still for two reasons. First, she quickly recognized Alan Tracy from the news stories of the bombing – and second, it became clear that the teenager couldn't see. Knowing that there was no way Jeff Tracy could keep that fact hidden for long, Brittany was sure that the injury was the result of the same bombing that killed her beloved younger brother.

"Can't cook yourself?" Brittany teased as she poured a glass of water.

Alan gingerly felt for the water glass before taking a sip. Sighing in relief, Alan shrugged.

"Usually, I can. But," Alan sighed, "me around the stove at the moment scares Dad too much."

Brittany smiled slightly. Alan reminded her so much of JP.

"Well, I just turned on the grill, so it will be a couple of minutes," Brittany said. "How about an egg white omelet, with red peppers and feta?"

Alan smiled back. "Sounds good."

Once Brittany had the omelet started, she put a mug of hot chocolate and a muffin in front of Alan. "Cocoa and carrot cake muffin – dig in."

Feeling for the mug, Alan took a sip before shaking his head. "No thanks on the muffin – I'm allergic to walnuts."

"Oops," Brittany laughed for the first time since her brother's death. "Then how about some honey biscuits?"

Alan's artless smile assured him one in return. Brittany quickly put the omelet on a plate and set two biscuits next to it with a slice of melon she had finished cutting just before Alan had come in.

For almost thirty minutes, Alan ate while Brittany's heart lightened as the teenager cheerfully talked to her. Alan was just finishing when a voice suddenly called out his name in panic.

"Alan!" Ann-Marie Thompson ran into the coffee shop, "What are you doing down here?"

Finishing his second cup of cocoa, Alan shrugged. "I was hungry and Dad was still asleep."

Other people, mainly security and maintenance, had begun to drift in. Some had only ordered a coffee to go, a few had ordered breakfast but many had greeted Alan.

"Ann-Marie," Jeff had said as he entered. "What was so urgent?" Sitting next to Alan, he put an arm around his son, nodding in thanks when Brittany poured him a cup of coffee. Taking a quick gulp, Jeff focused on his long-time assistant.

Ann-Marie had a hand on her chest, as she urgently began. "It's Carl Patrick – he was attacked last week. He's been in a coma -"

Setting down his mug, Jeff snapped. "What? Why wasn't I informed?"

Sighing, Ann-Marie rubbed Alan's arm and looked significantly at the teen before addressing her boss. "I called you the day it happened. You were upset enough. It was the day of the incident with the pool."

Jeff's arm tightened around Alan as he remembered how terrified he had been even an hour later when Ann-Marie had called. After he nodded, Ann-Marie continued.

"Apparently, he started to wake up yesterday. He managed to say something about the Towers and the doctors think he was asking for Agent Delgado."

"Why would he ask for her?" Alan asked.

Shaking her head, Ann-Marie shrugged. "We don't know a lot of FBI agents, Alan," Ann-Marie joked before sobering. "But it makes me wonder if the police were wrong and it was more than an attempted mugging."

"Keep me in the loop," Jeff ordered before he realized Brittany was behind him.

"Here's your breakfast, Mr. Tracy," Brittany said cheerfully, covertly examining the man, wondering once more if he was at any way at fault for her brother's death.

"I didn't order anything," Jeff said in confusion.

"No," Alan spoke up as he slid off the stool, grateful when his father was able to stop him from losing his balance. "I did. You'll like it."

After saying his farewells to Brittany, Alan allowed his father and Ann-Marie to escort him back to the apartment, knowing there was no way he would head back to sleep – he was just way too nervous.

Watching the trio head back to the elevators, Brittany wondered once more who was responsible for her beloved brother's death and was surprised to find herself hoping it wasn't Jeff Tracy, if only for his son's sake. Alan really was a nice kid…

* * *

><p>Jackson Mitchell sat at bus stop located across from the Tracy Towers. In the rush of the morning commute, no one noticed that he never got onto any of the buses. Even on a Saturday, it was busy, as many of the banks and such were open until noon. Finally, a little after nine that morning, he saw Jeff Tracy pull out of the recently repaired garage and turn in the direction of New York Presbyterian Hospital. Mitchell knew he wouldn't get anywhere near the teenager, especially with the added security from the last time he had "visited" Alan Tracy. But – he could be waiting when the pair returned to the Towers…<p>

Scott Tracy smiled and winked at Kate from where he stood at the front of the old church in Bailey. His parents had married here, brought him and John back here to be baptized, and, with Virgil, Gordon and Alan having been born in Bailey, they had been as well. But after his mother's funeral – also held in the same building – Jeff had rarely come to church. It had simply been too painful.

As the music began and all attention moved to the back of the church, everyone smiled at the sight of Jean Bates in her grandmother's wedding gown. Jeannie was taller than her mother but wore her grandmother's gown perfectly. The sheriff, who had been both her mentor and now boss, proudly walked the woman he saw as his own child down the aisle where Billy Landman happily waited for her. His sister passed him with a smile before heading to wait across from Scott.

The ceremony began and all eyes remained on the group at the altar - all eyes except for one pair.

Keifer Dutton had been watching Scott Tracy in slow fury. How dare he? He was Billy's cousin. Jean and Billy had wanted to keep their wedding small and who better to stand up as Billy's best man since the groom's best friend had died in a plane crash the year before? But Billy had wanted his sister in the wedding so the couple had done a compromise: his sister as Jean's maid of honor while Jean's best friend, Scott Tracy, would stand up as Billy's best man. Everyone had been happy.

Everyone except Keifer, that is.

Just before the bridal march started, Keifer had been glaring at Scott Tracy who – as he often had before – ignored him. When Scott had smiled and winked at someone in the audience, Keifer had looked with curiosity.

A striking dark-haired woman sat next to Millie Bates, in a stylish yet practical summer dress. The smile she gave to Scott Tracy was one that proudly proclaimed her to be with the man.

Of course, the son of the wealthiest man in Bailey would get a hot woman for his date. There was a time when Keifer could have – should have – been that man. Well, he would just have to let the stunner know that she had options here in Bailey…

* * *

><p>Alan Tracy sat anxiously in the doctor's office, having undergone testing for several hours. He could feel the waves of tension pouring off of his father and tried to lighten the mood.<p>

"Dad," the teen said to his pacing parent. "You ought to see if Dr. Simone has a treadmill handy – you could theoretically generate enough energy to power the hospital with your pacing."

"Ha-ha," Jeff sniped as he threw himself back in the chair. "I just want answers. Is that too much to ask?"

"And," Dr. Simone said as she entered the office, "I require time to look at tests before I give the answers. Is that too much to ask?"

Alan snickered and knew his father would be flustered, even if he couldn't see it.

Dr. Simone sat in front of Alan, taking his hand so the teen knew where she was. "Alright, Alan – I know this has been frustrating. But, the good news is that the clot is shrinking, the pressure is being relieved. You are not imagining it – some light is getting in. But it is like you are emerging from a cave – the slightest light makes your eyes more sensitive."

Turning slightly, to grab a chart from the desk, Dr. Simone and Jeff both noticed that Alan's eyes followed the movement. Smiling at Jeff, the neurologist nodded.

"As you just saw, Mr. Tracy, Alan has begun to unconsciously take note of movement. The pressure is still too much for him to see at the moment, but I think soon he will begin to notice shadowy forms. After that, as the clot continues to diminish, we will see marked improvement."

"Now," the woman said cheerfully as she stood. "You are doing well on the warafin. Continue on the same dose and testing schedule. And, if you prefer, your next check-up can be in Auckland. But I would like to see you before you return to school and clear you to return to regular activities."

"You mean I should recover enough to go back to the track team?" Alan asked excitedly.

Dr. Simone smiled as she tapped the end of his nose with her finger. "I have every reason to believe you will, Alan. But let me see you by mid-August, and I can confirm it."

"Thanks!" Alan grinned, leaning into the one-armed hug Jeff was giving him even as he held out his other arm to shake Dr. Simone's hand.

"Thank you, doctor," Jeff said sincerely. "If there is ever anything I can do for you, just let me know."

Dr. Simone saw them to the outside door and watched the pair walk down the hall, Jeff protectively holding his son's arm as they headed towards the elevator. She couldn't help but smile and was glad that surgery shouldn't be needed.

She didn't know if the hospital would survive how frantic _**that**_ would have made the Tracys.

* * *

><p>As Scott had expected, Jeannie had been thrilled when he pulled his best friend aside before the wedding to tell her he had proposed to Kate. As soon as they could, Billy and Jeannie had drifted over to the other couple and began to catch up and reminisce. Kate smiled and laughed as Jeannie and Scott continued to trade childhood stories. Catching Billy's eye, she shook her head in amusement as he did the same.<p>

"Were they always this bad?" Kate stage-whispered.

"Yes, they were," Millie said as she interrupted. "Scott, one of your Grandma's old friends – Tillie Trudel? – she is here and would love a word with you."

Remembering Tillie's kindness when both his mother and grandfather had passed away within a couple of years, Scott nodded.

"Kate," he began only for her to wave them off.

"I'll be fine, Scott," she assured him. With a nod and a smile, Scott let Millie lead him to where a tiny white-haired lady sat in a wheelchair. Watching him lean down and hug the woman before he knelt in front of her, Kate smiled at the sight.

Jeannie continued with a few stories she was sure Scott _wouldn't _want her telling Kate only to be slightly annoyed when Kate laughed and assured her that Sarah had already told them to her.

"Rats," Jeannie muttered. "That takes all the fun out of it."

Kate and Billy laughed even as Billy's sister approached them.

"Billy, Uncle Tyler has to leave and wants to say goodbye. Dad said for you and Jeannie to come over."

Jeannie glanced at Kate, about to protest when Kate waved her as well.

"I'll be fine – Scott shouldn't be much longer."

With one last look of hesitation, Jean allowed herself to be pulled away.

"_Finally,_" Keifer mentally huffed. He had been waiting for a shot at Scott's squeeze for over an hour. Even though no alcohol was being served – beside the champagne used for the first toast – that hadn't stopped the deputy from becoming increasingly inebriated from the flask of whisky he had brought with him.

"Hey there," Keifer said smoothly, walking up to Kate

Kate looked at annoyance at the man walking up to her. She may not have been anti-alcohol, but to be noticeably under the influence – especially this early in the day? – was appalling to her.

"Now what is a hot looking woman like you doing with a loser like Tracy?" Keifer sneered.

"Scott Tracy," Kate said coolly, "is a good man and someone whose company I enjoy."

"Really?" Keifer laughed derisively. He didn't notice the simple ring on her left hand but did take note of the diamond on her right. Not knowing that the ring was a college graduation gift from her family – her birthstone surrounded by each of her family members' birthstones – Keifer made a wild assumption he would soon regret.

"Let me guess," he sneered. "Tracy was so busy babysitting his family and brownnosing his Dad, he forgot to get a date. So do you charge by the hour or did he get a weekend discount?"

"Go sober up, loser," Kate hissed as she tried to move past him only for Keifer to snag her arm and try and pull her towards him.

"Dutton!" Jeannie, Scott and the sheriff all yelled at the same time. Jeannie and Amos were worried about Kate when they saw the deputy grab her arm. Scott wasn't.

He was worried about bailing Kate out of jail once she was done with Keifer.

A sharp kick followed by a quick flip had Keifer Dutton lying on the ground, Kate's 5 inch stiletto heel pressed against his throat.

"Move one inch," Kate growled, "and you'll be breathing through a tube for a month – if you are breathing at all."

"I'm a deputy sheriff," the idiot snarled. "I can arrest you for assaulting an officer."

"One," Kate snapped, "that would only be if this occurred while you were performing the duties of your office. Being drunk at a wedding does not fall under that. Secondly," she smirked, pulling her ID from the small purse she was carrying, "I can make the same claim. Let's see who wins – a drunk deputy or the FBI agent he attempted to force himself on."

"Amos," Jeannie hissed, "get this idjit out of here before Mama bashes his head in with a pan."

"No need Amos," Keifer's father sighed. "I'll take him home and sober him up. Unless," he glanced at Kate, "the lady wants to press charges."

"No," Kate assured him. "No charges. Just a warning." Kate stepped forward and glared at Dutton. At five-ten, with the heels, she had to look down a bit, but she felt that was somehow right.

"If I ever see you again, it will be the last thing _you_ see – got it?"

Several people chuckled only to see Scott's smug grin – and Kate's deadly glare. Most of those gathered knew that as bad an idea as it was to get Scott ticked off, that would just get you hurt. Getting his lady mad? That could get you killed.

* * *

><p>Jeff and Alan made their way out of the garage back at Tracy Towers. They were back sooner than they had expected and Jeff decided to do a little paperwork.<p>

"Why don't you read in my office for a bit, Alan? You do have your i-Pad, for your audio books, right?" Jeff asked as he punched the button. "Or I can take you back to the penthouse -"

"If you don't mind, Dad," Alan insisted. "I would rather stay with you. If I can't see anyone, I would prefer to hear someone. Even if it just you doing paperwork."

"So," Jeff asked, quick to change the subject. "What are you reading?" They had quickly learned that even if it was an audio book, Alan preferred to keep the same terms.

"Oh, Kate downloaded her uncle's new book," Alan said excitedly. "It wasn't supposed to be released yet, but Professor Eppes arranged for an advanced copy to be sent to Kate."

The elevator stopped smoothly at the floor to the executive suites and Jeff punched in the code to gain access to the offices, since most executives – unlike some support staff – did not work on Saturday. Leading Alan down to his office, Jeff didn't even notice that the door to the executive washroom moved slightly or the pair of eyes that followed their progress down the hallway…

* * *

><p><em><strong>Yes, yes I know - evil.<strong>_

_**I get worse. - CC (ps - review because I am hoping ff will play nice with me this time).**_


	18. Chapter 18

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - I do not own Thunderbirds, Daria, Numb3rs or New York Presbyterian Hospital.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

Back at New York Presbyterian, Daria Delgado held her hand out to Dr. Wetherall.

"Hi, Doc," the FBI agent said cheerfully. "I hear your patient is coming around a bit more." She had stopped by yesterday to talk with Carl Patrick, but between the medication and his head injury, the man wasn't making much sense.

"You're awfully cheerful for someone out on what should be a day off," the doctor joked, even as he nodded to where Casey Patrick –who had flown back from London after the attack on her father – was trying to distract her younger brothers for the sake of her frazzled step-mother.

Greg Sanders looked annoyed at his partner. "She keeps claiming her son said "mama"," he grumbled. "Personally, I think it was gas."

"No," Daria argued. "It was gas when you insisted my two day old son was smiling at you. Of course, since he couldn't even see correctly, that might be the only time he would smile at you."

Entering the room, Daria quickly moved to one side while Dr. Wetherall stood protectively to the other. Leaning over Carl, she softly spoke.

"Mr. Patrick? Carl? It's Daria Delgado. You wanted to speak to me?"

Carl Patrick forced his eyes open. In a husky voice, he spoke. "The Towers. Mitchell. Tell Kate, she may be right. Backdoor."

When the man drifted off again, Daria left the room, her partner on her heels.

"Any idea what that was about?" Sanders asked.

Frowning, Daria nodded. "One of the guys who was targeting Kate Eppes – wasn't it a former Tracy Enterprises employee named Jackson Mitchell? And if I recall, didn't he once work at the New York office?"

Sanders nodded as well, flipping through his smart phone as he pulled up files. "Yep. In fact, he apparently saw the transfer to Chicago as a demotion and it was theorized that it was one of the reasons he tried to steal the program."

"Are you talking about Jackson Mitchell?" a new voice added.

The agents turned and saw Casey Patrick standing beside them. "I sent the gang for food. Are you talking about Mitchell?"

"We are," Daria allowed. "Did you know him?"

"A little," Casey admitted. "I was interested in a program he was working on a few years ago. I was still in high school and he got annoyed when I pointed out that he had left a back door that someone could use to access the Towers."

"What would this back door do?" Sanders asked.

"Basically," Casey explained, "the back door could allow someone who once had access to keep their access to the building, even after security had removed them. Mitchell said they had fixed it, but I wasn't allowed access to it and well, I just presumed it had been reviewed after he was arrested. However, security may not have considered him leaving a hidden access for New York – not since he was arrested in Chicago."

"Why would your father have considered it now?" Daria questioned.

"There is this person – a Kate Eppes?" Casey said. "She is being considered for a position with Tracy Enterprises. She's good with computers – I mean, spooky, hacker type good. She has some sort of government spook background, I think. She spotted some incongruities in the security program for the Towers. But without full access – which she won't get until after she is hired – she couldn't be sure. So she sent her work to Dad, who sent it to me to review. I found the access was still there. Mitchell could still potentially access security cameras and the elevators. That was about it."

Daria and Greg looked at each other in concern, before excusing themselves. "This is bad," Daria muttered.

"Can we be sure?" Greg asked as he tried to keep up.

"It's Kate," Daria said bluntly. "If she says it's so, it is."

Entering an empty elevator, they headed towards the parking garage. "I think," Daria surmised, "that JP Horne somehow got pulled in with Mitchell and Flint. They escaped about the same time he left Chicago. What if that favor he had to do was helping them? What if he gets here, maybe he is told the bomb is just a scare tactic? But when JP realizes people are gonna be close by, he tries to warn them."

"The reason why the bomb went off early was because Mitchell was watching!" Greg exclaimed. "He's narcissistic enough that he wouldn't care if his helper was hurt or even killed."

"And the resentment he had for anyone named Tracy would add to his desire to hurt

Alan," Daria said grimly as she dialed her phone, sighing when it was answered.

"Ms. Thompson? It's Daria Del – Yes, yes – sorry. Ann-Marie. Yes, I saw Mr. Patrick. I need to speak with Mr. Tracy as soon as possible. Can you give me his home number…"

Daria froze as she exited the elevator, causing Greg to bump into her in surprise. "He's where? At the Towers? And Alan is with him?"

Both agents began to run to their vehicle, even as Daria continued to speak. "Ms. Thompson, call up to him as soon as possible. Tell him to call me immediately." She rattled off her cell phone even as they leapt into the SUV, Greg starting it up as Daria buckled in. "Yes, Ma'am. It's very urgent. Lock down the Towers now."

As they pulled out of the garage, Greg muttered to his partner. "Let's hope that order didn't come too late."

* * *

><p>Brittany Horne was tired beyond belief. The girl who was supposed to work breakfast with her had decided she "needed a weekend off" and had called in, allegedly sick. Yeah – right.<p>

The coffee shop manager, Alyssa, had finally come in and helped out. Turning to Brittany, she smiled.

"You did very well by yourself all morning," Alyssa said. "Do you want to take your meal break now?"

"That would be great," Brittany sighed.

"Could you watch the shop first?" Alyssa said. "I just want to run this up to Mr. Tracy's office," she explained as she pointed to a tray with coffee, juice and a fruit bowl. "Ms. Thompson called and said that when Mr. Tracy and his son returned we were to bring that up to them."

"I could bring it up, then go on break," Brittany offered, anxious for another chance to scope out the Tracys – to see if they were at all at fault for JP's death.

Alyssa looked Brittany over carefully. Ms. Thompson had praised the young woman to her when she had called, mentioning Brittany's kindness to Alan Tracy. Alyssa had worked here at the Towers since it opened, and could recall a tiny Alan chasing after – or being chased by – one of his brothers. Anyone who watched over the Tracy Baby was considered good by her standards.

"That would be nice," Alyssa allowed with a smile. She started to make another pot of coffee. Unlike many downtown offices, the Towers were opened on Saturday, allowing people to "flex" their schedule a bit as needed. There weren't as many people there as there usually were, the week had been rainy until yesterday and most people preferred to have a warm, sunny Saturday to themselves or their families. But there were enough to justify the shop being open until two and that meant more coffee would be needed.

Brittany placed the tray onto a small push cart and headed towards the elevators. Entering the elevator car, she sighed. It had all seemed so simple when she started. Come to New York, find out who was responsible for Jeffy's death, and make sure they paid. But now that she was here? Not only did she not know who was to blame, she had to face a bitter reality.

What to do after? Revenge was a cold thing when it was all you had to live for.

* * *

><p>Ann-Marie Thompson hung up the phone, trying to get control of her breathing. Checking the computerized security system, she saw Jeff had entered his codes for the parking garage as well as access to the executive suites. He– and presumably Alan – had gone to his office. Looking through the logs, Ann-Marie saw that a security guard was still listed as patrolling that floor. Sighing, she decided not to worry them too much. At least not yet.<p>

Picking the phone back up, Ann-Marie called the acting head of security. Jason Meyers was working today, having been surprised by how much work his boss did usually. Even when Carl took time off, he would work extra in the weeks leading up to it so that there wasn't that much for his second in command to do when he was gone. But with Carl's sudden incapacitation, Jason was definitely feeling the heat – and appreciating his boss a lot more than usual.

After relaying the situation, Ann-Marie hung up the phone, confident that the building would be secured in short order and the Tracys would be safe.

* * *

><p>Jeff settled Alan on the couch and handed his son his i-Pad after bringing up the new "Everything is Math" book by Dr. Eppes. Alan happily put some ear buds in and curled up on the couch, listening intently to the energetic voice of the math genius. After a few minutes, Jeff noticed Alan's eyes begin to droop.<p>

Getting back up, Jeff dimmed the lights a bit before returning to his desk and turning on his desk lamp. Reading e-mails, he noted that Ann-Marie had placed an order for them at the coffee shop. Stifling a sigh, Jeff reminded himself to order lunch for delivery soon. He really wasn't much of a cook and Alan around a stove made him nervous at the moment.

Jeff headed over to the couch when he saw Alan completely drop off, laying a light blanket over his son before setting down the i-pad on the table next to the couch. The sunglasses that Alan wore to protect himself from bright lights joined the electronic device and Jeff headed back to the desk to finish up some work. Once he had reviewed the contracts and rescheduled a few meetings – maybe make some teleconferences instead? – Jeff wondered if he could get Alan home tonight. Glancing over at his youngest, he decided against that. Alan and he could use some alone time.

Bolstered by the news the doctors had given them, Jeff glanced at the vid-phone, considering if he should call the family. Eventually, Jeff decided to wait a bit longer. He wanted Alan in on this and besides, Scott and Kate would still be at Jeannie Bates – oops, Jeannie Landman's – wedding. Both couples had reason to celebrate. Jeff smiled as he read the quick e-mail Scott had sent earlier in the day. The joy of the few words would make any parent happy.

"_She said yes."_

Everything was finally going their way.

* * *

><p>Devon Flint and Jackson Mitchell moved closer to Jeff Tracy's office. They had managed to get to the 81st floor, but without the proper ID, none of Mitchell's still usable codes would allow them access to the suites of offices.<p>

"_Are you sure we can get up to the penthouse from here?" Flint had asked earlier._

"_Yes," Mitchell hissed. "There is a private elevator in Jeff Tracy's office that goes up there."_

"_One floor needs an elevator?" Flint asked in surprise._

_Mitchell shook his head. "No. The elevator runs all the way down to the lobby."_

"_Then why didn't we take that?" _

_Mitchell was ready to snap when he realized that Flint was asking him a fairly intelligent question. "Because – That elevator needs both a key card and a palm print to access anywhere else in the building. You can get on but it won't go anywhere without a key card. And it won't go above the 80th floor without an authorized palm print. Tracy takes the safety of his family very seriously. But from his office? You just press a button."_

_The men had waited in a utility closet until a security guard named Nick Murphy had begun his sweep of the floor. Jumping him from behind, Flint had quickly broken the man's neck before dragging Murphy's body to the secured doors. Like a grotesque marionette, the guard's card and palm print were used and the two escaped convicts entered the formerly secure area, dragging the body behind them._

"Are you sure no one will spot the body?" Flint asked.

"In the executive washroom on Saturday?" Mitchell had dismissed as he started to exit the bathroom only to push Flint back into the room, making a quiet sign as he peeked out the washroom door.

"What?" Flint finally hissed.

"Fate is on our side," Mitchell crooned softly. "We don't have to go to the Big Boss – he has come to us." Glancing over his shoulder at Flint, Mitchell smiled coldly.

"Jeff and Alan Tracy just entered his office. Looks like Daddy Tracy wants his little man close by as he works. Isn't that sweet?"

Flint gave a malicious grin as he nodded. They would wait here a few more minutes, then enter the offices of Jeff Tracy. Soon they would be rich, soon…Thinking of the vulnerable, attractive teen just down the hall…Well, Mitchell almost felt sorry when he saw the flames of desire flicker in his partner's eyes. But his own yearning to destroy Jeff Tracy shot down any feelings of wanting to protect an innocent boy.

* * *

><p>Scott danced slowly, holding Kate close in his arms. "I love you," he whispered in her ear.<p>

"Ditto," Kate said as she nestled her head on his shoulder. At almost 5'10", Kate rarely wore high heels as it made her tower over most men. But she had discovered four inch heels allowed her to be in the perfect position to lay her head on Scott's shoulders…and was quick to take advantage of it.

Before Scott could say anything else, Billy's sister called out, "OK, time for the bouquet and garter belt." Then, at Jean's cold glare, her new sister-in-law hastily added, "Never mind – just the bouquet."

Laughter filled the Grange Hall as the single women jostled for a place. Kate stayed next to Scott, shaking her head when Millie asked her if she was going to join them.

"No," Kate demurred. "I shouldn't."

Jeannie glanced around the hall and grinned when she saw Scott and Kate. Turning around, she started to throw before repositioning herself. A sudden heave and the ribbon-bedecked floral display flew through the air – and right into Kate's startled hands. Jean turned around, laughing at the surprised look on Kate's face.

"Not taking any chances," Jean snarked, making the hall burst into laughter as well.

"Sounds good," Scott teased, kissing Kate lightly. Kate had begun to respond when Scott suddenly pulled back.

"You ok?" Kate asked in surprise.

"Yeah – I guess," Scott said in a distracted voice. "I – I just felt like someone tossed ice down my back."

Kate eyed him before nodding. "Well, Jeannie and Billy are about to leave. Let's say good-bye and then we'll head back to the farmhouse and we can call your Dad. You'll feel better after that."

Scott nodded. Kate was right – he just needed to check in with his family.

* * *

><p>Jeff smiled at the sight of Alan snuggling into the couch, mumbling and rolling slightly so that his head was tucked into the pillow Jeff had slipped under his head. Picking up a picture of Lucy and the boys taken the day they had brought Alan home from the hospital, he suddenly flashed back to watching a two-year-old Allie sleeping much the same way.<p>

_He knew he should be heading back to his office down on the first floor. Or maybe putting the casserole Lucy had prepped before leaving for the funeral. Jeff shook his head in disbelief. It still seemed ludicrous that Sharon Smith would be dead. The two women had attended college together. Sharon had collapsed from an aortic aneurism and even being rushed to the hospital failed to save her life._

"_Hey," a tired voice spoke behind him. Jeff turned in surprise, pulling Lucy into his arms. _

"_Hey yourself," Jeff said to his wife. "What are you doing back already?"_

"_Seeing Shar's babies – the twin are only seven and Kayla is not even out of diapers," Lucy sighed. "It made me want to come home to my boys."_

"_What about me?" Jeff teased._

"_Honey, you are proof that a woman's oldest kid is her husband," Lucy smirked – a look Jeff distinctly recognized as belonging to their fourth son. Lucy's face softened as she looked into the room. "But how is our baby?"_

_Jeff smiled as he looked at the sleeping toddler. "Allie has a bit of a cold. Nothing to worry about, Luc," he added hastily at her panicked expression. It had only been a little over a year since Allie had stopped getting sick all the time._

"_Mom took the boys out so Allie has been keeping me company here," Jeff said. "He watched Speed Racer while I did some paperwork, then I made him a sandwich and heated up some soup. He almost fell asleep in the soup," Jeff chuckled._

_Lucy slipped quietly into the room, kneeling by the newly installed toddler bed, and placing a gentle hand on his forehead, before smiling up at Jeff who had followed her. "No temp, hmm? But he does sound a bit congested."_

"_And I gave him some infant cold drops," Jeff sighed. "Mom said he didn't need a humidifier unless he gets more blocked up."_

_Kissing Alan's forehead, Lucy stood up and headed to the door, Jeff on her heels. Stopping at the doorway, the parents watched their baby sleep. "Promise me something, Jeff," Lucy said softly._

"_What?" Jeff asked._

_Her mind on her friend, who had died so young and suddenly, Lucy spoke with a tremor to her voice. "Promise me that if anything happens to me when our boys are still young, you will make them your priority. Promise me that, Rocket Man."_

"_I promise, Luc," Jeff said as he pulled her close. It was a silly promise, but if it gave Lucy peace, who was he to argue? After all – what could possibly happen to his young wife?_

Sighing, Jeff set down the picture. He hadn't kept that promise very well, had he? But he hoped Lucy would be proud of him now. Smiling as he watched Alan sleep, Jeff picked up another file and started to open it when a sudden noise at the door made him look up. Expecting Ann-Marie – or maybe someone from the coffee shop as Ann-Marie would have known when he got back and often arranged for coffee and a snack to be delivered – Jeff stood abruptly when Jackson Mitchell pushed open the door.

Jeff wasn't sure what he would have done at that point if it had been just Mitchell. But between the gun in Mitchell's hand to the appearance of the man coming in behind his former employee. The billionaire felt the panic rise at the sight of Devlin Flint entering, pulling a knife from his waistband.

"Don't do anything stupid, Jeff," Mitchell hissed, swinging his gun towards Alan. "You wouldn't want to have a stray bullet hit Alan, would you?"

"What do you want, Mitchell?" Jeff asked coldly, easing his hand away from his desk phone, which had been prepared to hit an alarm button.

"A re-evaluation of my job performance," Mitchell snapped. "And reconsideration of my golden parachute. I think Tracy Enterprises owes me some compensation, don't you? And if I don't get it," Mitchell gave a nasty grin as he concluded, "I think ten million would be a good amount, don't you?"

"Because if there isn't compensation in a financial manner," Flint said as he eased towards a sleeping Alan, "We just may have to take it out of your hide – and that of your little boy."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN**_

_**Alan – Hi folks. CC is kinda busy these days. Although she did take time to post a Harry Potter/ Muppets crossover. Said she did it after having a bad day. **_

_**Gordon – Which was a relief for us. Usually she hurts Alan after a bad day.**_

_**Alan – True – So she asked if we would answer the reviews, so she could post a new chapter before work. So here we go –**_

_***Iniysa - Dun Dun Dun! Good chapter, can't wait for the next!**_

_**Alan – Well, that seems nice enough – Gordon, why are you shaking your head.**_

_**Gordon – Al, that lady is the one who trapped you in the woods and has ghosts after you. AND she drops stuff on you. You live – I think.**_

_***Sam1 - You do realize that this is the season for giving, right? And I don't mean**_  
><em><strong>more cliffhangers! *sighs* You're taking way too much delight in your<strong>_  
><em><strong>evilness.<strong>_

_**Lots of aww moments in the beginning of this update. And Alan is still so**_  
><em><strong>likeable. Darn you for making me like the kid. lol<strong>_

_**Ah, Kate is such a perfect fit for Scott. Loved how she put Keister in his**_  
><em><strong>place. And how Scott wasn't worried for her safety but about bailing her out<strong>_  
><em><strong>of jail. ROTFLMBO<strong>_

_**Hurry with the next update, oh evil one!**_

_**Gordon snorts. At Alan's raised eyebrow, he explains. – She calls CC evil? Please. She writes you as a whiny brat, she's killed all of us at some time and the only one she ever seems to let have sex is John. I think she has a thing for John.**_

_**Alan – I just hacked into her computer. She has a half-naked picture of Johnny as Santa Claus. Forget thinking she has a thing for him.**_

_**Gordon – Send that pic to me, Al – I think we just found our Christmas card photo.**_

_***Laurashrub - Ok, Brittany is on the right track. All she needs is to overhear ANY**_  
><em><strong>conversation they may have in regards to her brother and I will be<strong>_  
><em><strong>significantly happier.<strong>_

_**I was seriously amused by the events at the wedding, specifically Scott's**_  
><em><strong>reaction to Keifer grabbing Kate. It shouldn't be funny. It is. Damn, you're<strong>_  
><em><strong>good.<strong>_

_**Alan – I still don't see why Brittany is in on this.**_

_**Gordon – Hate to tell you kid – in this story, you can't see anything at the moment.**_

_**Alan – Jerk. But that was a funny moment with Dutton, wasn't it?**_

_**Gordon – Yeah, but it still has me wondering how Sam1 knew we used to call him Keister? Well, she didn't know we called him Dumbass Dutton.**_

_**Alan – If she read CC's Supernatural/ Thunderbirds crossover she does.**_

_***JoTracy123 - You are so getting evil lol. All in all this story is getting really good.**_

_**Keep up the good work. Still loving this story xxxxxxxxx**_

_**Alan – See Gordon – people like this encourage CC to write. They LIKE seeing us get hurt.**_

_**Gordon – As CC has explained, it may not so much be they like seeing us hurt as they like seeing us have the comfort moments that follow the hurt. Actually fairly rational on the part of a complete and utter psychopath. Then again, even a stopped clock is right twice a day.**_

_**Alan – Not if it's digital. Then it's like a politician – in the dark and completely useless.**_

_**Gordon – You gotta stop hanging around CC.**_

_***Joanne Brandon - I loved the Kate moment - girl power! I also liked the whole ring simplicity part as it showed that love isn't bought but simply always there! OMG what are**_  
><em><strong>you going to do to Jeff and Alan - that ain't good. I can't wait for another<strong>_  
><em><strong>update so please do so soon!<strong>_

_**Gordon - It scares me how much people like Kate when she gets violent.**_

_**Alan – Kate's actions, not showing restraint in taking physical action against aggressors, where the readers in real life would hesitate in fear of repercussions – physical, legal or social – is a psychologically freeing action much like watching violent movies or playing violent games.**_

_**Gordon – Alan, have you been reading psych magazines again.**_

_**Alan – No, Fermat likes Dr. Phil. You pick up some stuff when your roommate watches that show every day.**_

_***Sammygirl1963 - Ya know, I would be happy to pay good money to see that scene between Keifer and Kate happen. I would have loved to seen not only Deputy dumabass's face, but the faces of all those in attendance! You got to love a woman who**_  
><em><strong>can take care of herself!<strong>_

_**YAY, Alan is starting to get better, though it will take some time to get his**_  
><em><strong>site back. Luckily for us, we all know you aren't going to make the time a<strong>_  
><em><strong>relaxing one for the poor kid!<strong>_

_**Gordon – Well, someone is rooting for you. That – should – Al, why are you laughing.**_

_**Alan – Dude, she is one of CC's best friends. CC learned some of her best "how to torture younger brother" techniques from her.**_

_**Gordon – She got you before?**_

_**Alan (shrugs) Me? She really only got me once. She gave me malaria for CC's birthday one year. But you should see what she does to Sam Winchester.**_

_**Gordon – Sam Winchester? Why does that sound familiar?**_

_**Alan – CC did a Supernatural – Thunderbirds crossover and you met him, well, kinda. I don't think you two ever actually met. But you were at the same disaster at the same time.**_

_**Gordon – So? CC has shot you, stabbed you, poisoned you, several fires, blinded you, run you down…What has she missed?**_

_**Alan – I'm afraid to ask. But I think she and Jean stay up late trading ideas for their manual "How to torture baby bros".**_

_***Susan MM - Let's see, Brittany is becoming more 3D, Jeff is quite reasonably apprehensive about blind teenagers cooking, Alan is healing with believable slowness (not all better in 60 minutes like on TV), Kate proved (again) she can take care of**_  
><em><strong>herself, and someone is watching Jeff and Alan - on the whole, a good chapter.<strong>_  
><em><strong> And yes, ma'am, you are evil. Thoroughly, irredeemably evil.<strong>_

_**Alan – Pfft. I was blind and I still was probably a better cook than Scott.**_

_**Gordon – Al, a seeing eye dog is a better cook than Scott.**_

_**Alan – Good point.**_

_**Gordon – What I love is Susan Mm-hmm saying that CC taking a while getting you better is believable. What I want to know is does CC delay recovery for realism, dramatic effect or because that is how she gets her jollies.**_

_**Alan – Gordon, she keeps killing off your girlfriends. I think you should watch what you say about CC.**_

_**Rinix14 - Omg as always your stories are amazing, I just never remember to sign in to**_  
><em><strong>review...I love this story so far...you really know how to draw a person into<strong>_  
><em><strong>a story!<strong>_

_**Gordon – Wow. CC has a fan girl! **_

_**Alan – Gordo! She is just being nice enough to say she appreciates all the hard work and effort into her stories. Be nice.**_

_**Gordon – Nice is overrated Sprout. Besides, what does CC know about being nice?**_

_**Alan – She feeds us during the conversations, keeps us alive in her stories and we all end up with families.**_

_**Gordon – Hmmm. I'll give you that.**_

_**Bubzchoc - cant wait for more.**_

_**Gordon (snort) – You kind of have to. CC even has us answering reviews, so I don't think she can update for a few more days, at least.**_

_**Alan (sighs) – She's being rhetorical. I think. You know, that is hard to answer without sarcasm.**_

_**Gordon – It's hard for CC to breath without sarcasm.**_

_**Alan – She does have that down to a fine art, doesn't she?**_

_**Gordon – She's the Mary Cassatt of sarcasm, sprout.**_

_**Alan – Don't call me Sprout.**_

_***mizz-shy-gurl - Loving your story still. I was laughing at how Kate handled the jerk.**_

_**Please update soon.**_

_**Alan – Oh, don't worry – she'll update soon. CC loves the excuse to torture me further.**_

_**Gordon – Yes. Yes, she does.**_

_**Bookfanatic67 - Another great chapter. Loved seeing Kate deal with Keifer...he's such a**_  
><em><strong>slimeball. Alan is on the mend which knowing you can't be a good thing(snarky<strong>_  
><em><strong>grin).<strong>_

_**Alan – What can I say – she nailed it perfectly.**_

_**Gordon (snicker) Not as well as Kate nailed Keifer.**_

_**River Eagle. - Hey! Great series so far. It is different from the other series and it is**_  
><em><strong>good that you are using the same or similar original characters. It is always<strong>_  
><em><strong>fun playing around with certain aspects of a character you have created<strong>_  
><em><strong>before. It all depends on the situation that they have been put in. Good<strong>_  
><em><strong>job. Hopefully you will be updating this story soon and I'm looking forward<strong>_  
><em><strong>to see how your introduce Julie...<strong>_

_**Alan – Yeah, the series has been great. I've been run over, given a drug over-dose, poisoned, taken hostage – twice – and blinded. It's been a hoot.**_

_**Gordon – But what about Julie? The rest of you are all settled and I'm alone.**_

_**Alan – For what? Eight chapters? Lisa? Remember? Dead girlfriend.**_

_**Gordon – Yeah – stress…Oh, still supposed to be mourning, right?**_

_**Alan – Yep. Deal with it.**_

_**Gordon - So that's all folks. Thanks for reviewing, favoriting and overall encouraging CC in her madness. Now encourage her to write more Harry Potter so she can traumatize other people instead.**_

_**Alan - She left us Christmas cookies.**_

_**Gordon - Never mind! Laters. Pass the egg nog, will you, Alan?**_

N (Guest starring Alan and Gordon Tracy)


	19. Chapter 19

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - Nope. OK - working both jobs most of this week so I can't answer any reviews I haven't yet, but I hope to post twenty on the weekend (just in time for Christmas, if you celebrate) and Scott and Alan have offered to answer reviews from chapter nineteen if you review. So if you want a response from the Tracys, review NOW!_**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

Ann-Marie Thompson clicked off the last of the "chirped" confirmations of the internal communications system for Tracy Towers. Most of the staff had been cleared from the building – with pay, of course – and it was mainly security remaining in the building.

Sighing, she reached for the phone only to get an alert to call the acting security chief.

"Jason," Ann-Marie said. "Is the building secure?"

"I think so," Jason Meyers began only for Ann-Marie to cut him off.

"You think? You can't think about something this important. You have to know."

"It's – well, it's Murphy, Nick Murphy," Jason explained. "He hasn't checked in and he was scheduled to be on the 81stfloor. According to his ID badge and the security system, Murphy made it to the floor and entered the executive suites shortly thereafter. But there is nothing else. Monitoring his ID badge, he is – I think – in the executive washroom."

"Usually," Jason continued, "I would say – when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. But he's been in the same location for over ten minutes. Either he needs to go to Employee Health, or there may be something else going on."

"Send someone to check on him," Ann-Marie ordered. "Then have them check on the Tracys. Jeff and Alan are in Jeff's office. Tell Jeff to take Alan – never mind, I need to call him any ways. But still have them make sure the Tracys are alright."

Once Jason had acknowledged the instructions, Ann-Marie hung up and called Jeff's office. As the phone continued to ring and there was no answer, a cold chill went through Ann-Marie.

"OK," she sighed. "I think we are officially screwed."

* * *

><p>Jeff sat at his desk, a death glare being sent to the two intruders. They, unlike most recipients of the glare, were completely unfazed by it.<p>

"He looks like a little prince, sleeping beauty, doesn't he?" Flint asked as he reached out a hand to touch Alan.

"Keep your filthy hands off my son," Jeff hissed, not wanting Alan to wake to this nightmare.

"What is your problem, Tracy?" Mitchell snapped.

"You have sunk so low, Jackson," Jeff said coldly. "Keeping company with a man like that."

Mitchell nearly yelled at Jeff but then he watched the fearful/furious looks Jeff had as Flint played with his knife. Any time the man came too close to Alan, even just a hand, Jeff would flinch.

"So he was accused of killing some women and allegedly bonking them first," Mitchell shrugged. "So what?"

"The women were bad enough," Jeff hissed. "It is the two boys down in Florida and what he did to them that has me wanting him on the other side of the planet from my son."

"What are you talking about?" Mitchell asked in disbelief before seeing the smug look on Flint's face.

"So they know about those two, do they?" Flint leaned forward. "I can name eleven others in four states that they probably don't even know about. All like your boy – young, pretty and innocent." He tapped the purity ring on Alan's finger, a match for the one Alan's girlfriend Tin-Tin wore.

"And he just doesn't look all innocent, is he?"

The pure lust in the man's face turned Jeff's stomach. Even though Mitchell would not admit it, he felt the same way. Grown women? Most of them probably asked for it. But kids? _No, _Mitchell resolved. He would feel no sympathy for a Tracy spawn.

"You touch my son," Jeff said coldly, "and I will personally make sure they never find your body."

"Men like you don't get their hands dirty," Mitchell scoffed.

Jeff wanted to argue with Mitchell but he knew the man was blinded by the wealth and power he had now, not bothering to see all the hard work and sweat it took to get there. Instead, he focused on Flint.

"For anyone who hurts one of my boys I'll make an exception."

* * *

><p>Brittany let herself into the executive suites using the back elevator, used for deliveries. It never ceased to surprise her how many ways there were to get around the Towers. Or as Alyssa had said to her, "You're not in Kansas anymore."<p>

She didn't bother to point out that she was from Chicago. And just because she had worked at K-Mart, it didn't mean that she hadn't been in some pretty big buildings. OK, it was a tour of the Sears Tower (she forgot what it was called now) as part of a field trip in high school. But still…

"_anyone who hurts one of my boys I'll make an exception."_

Brittany halted in surprise at hearing Jeff Tracy speaking in such a cold, unyielding voice. Silently pushing the food service cart off to the side, she hid under the desk just outside of Jeff's office door. A quick glance around had made it clear that this was a separate office in and of itself. Looking up, Brittany saw a note an envelope marked "Ann-Marie Thompson". OK, so this was Ms. Thompson's desk. Well, it was the PA's job to be gate keeper for the boss.

Pushing the thought aside, Brittany tilted her head, trying to see into the office. "Damn," she mumbled. "Can't see anything."

But she could hear plenty. And what she heard next made her blood run cold then hot.

"_Keep focused, Flint," _a new voice said. _"Big boss pays us. Then we get retribution if we need to. And don't worry, Daddy Tracy. Nobody is gonna kill your baby."_

Yet another new voice spoke then. _"Hey, we had that kid. JP was a sweet little thing. But you wouldn't let me touch him."_

"_He wasn't a bad kid," _the first voice said. _"I almost felt bad for forcing him to help us."_

"_Didn't stop you from setting off the bomb when the kid was there."_

"_You planted the bomb?" _Mr. Tracy said harshly. _"You could have killed my son. You did kill two people."_

"_Yeah," _voice number one joked. _"And all I wanted was your boy. Too bad – oh, well. Collateral damage has been known to happen, hasn't it?"_

Collateral damage? These bastards had forced her brothers to help them to…well, to do something. One had wanted to – oh, Brittany couldn't even put words to that. And the other felt JP was just collateral damage.

They were so gonna die.

"_In fact," _voice one continued, "_if JP hadn't been trying to save your boy, he never would have died. It was really his own fault."_

Oh, yeah. Definitely dead.

* * *

><p>Ann-Marie stood back when Jason and three other members of the security team got off at the 81st floor. "Jason, I should -"<p>

"Stay right the hell where you are," Daria said as she emerged from the staircase, her panting partner right behind her.

"O – OK," Greg gasped. "You just – _gasp -_ had a kid a couple of months ago, and you _–ugh – _can run up to what? The 75th floor?"

"81st," Daria said coolly. "And I made sure I was back in shape before I came back to the field. You know some of those misogynistic bastards would love any excuse to say a mother can't be an agent." Turning to Ann-Marie, she changed the subject.

"No contact with Jeff Tracy and you are sure his son is in there as well?"

"I checked Jeff's security settings," Ann-Marie said calmly. "He didn't go up to the penthouse. And it's not like Alan can go wandering by himself these days."

"Did anyone check on any other entries to the suite?" Greg asked.

Jason nodded. "The cameras aren't working – which they were thirty minutes ago. And supposedly, Nick Murphy, from my department, went in there about fifteen minutes ago. His sweep should have taken eight minutes on average, twelve max unless there is an issue and for that Murphy would have called in."

"Well," Daria said, pulling her weapon, "let's hope we are over-reacting."

Entering the suite, the two FBI agents gently moved past the Tracy security men. They knew that Carl Patrick hired all former military or law enforcement, but whatever they used to be, the men were still current civilians. It was the agents' duty to head in first.

* * *

><p>Mitchell looked away from where he had been standing behind Jeff. Oh, he'd get his money, but he was having too much fun tormenting Jeff.<p>

Jackson was just about to tell Jeff how to transfer money to the account in the Caymans that had been set up in anticipation of selling the software he had appropriated from the company, when he heard a sound from outside.

"Keep them quiet," Mitchell hissed, holding out the gun and moving towards the door.

Flint stood up quickly and grabbed a sleeping Alan by the hair, abruptly awaking the teenager. Alan's hasty protest and his father objection were both rapidly silenced by a knife pressed to the teenager's throat. "I always found the death the most exciting thing of all," Flint said coldly, grinning when Jeff froze where he was. "Stay still, pretty boy," the escaped convict chuckled as he laid his chin on top of the teenager's head.

It was heartbreaking for Jeff to see the look of terror on Alan's face. "I'm right here, Alan," Jeff said softly. "It's going to be alright."

Jeff wasn't sure if he believed it.

Ignoring the drama behind him, Mitchell checked a security monitor hidden in a small enclave near the door. "Shit," Jackson muttered, raising the gun and pulling the trigger…

* * *

><p>Daria glanced up and was about to say something when she caught a glimpse of something from the doorway to Jeff Tracy's office.<p>

"Gun!" she hissed, ducking down just as a shot fired and shattered the glass of a print hanging on the wall behind her.

Greg had grabbed Jason, yanking the security officer to the floor. From there, Jason pulled his own weapon and tried to return fire only to have a second shot graze his arm. It was not a bad injury but it caused him to drop his gun, allowing the weapon to skate across the floor, landing a good fifteen feet from here.

"We're sitting ducks here," Daria grumbled, satisfied to see the other members of Tracy's security team had gotten back to the relative safety of an office on the other side of the suite.

Jason looked up. "Executive restroom. This is the men's side – I have the key to the connecting door to the women's side. Once in there, we can get back around to the rest of my men and set up shop."

Once they had slipped into the restroom, after one last shot from the doorway missed Greg by inches, agent muttered, "Executive restrooms? What do the poor secretaries use?"

"It's a reference to location only," Jason frowned. "Anyone who is up here can use them. Heck, if a mailroom delivery boy needs to use the facilities while up here, he can. Mr. Tracy would never allow that kind of discrimination."

Greg Sanders was about to make another comment when he heard Daria curse suddenly. Looking at his partner, both he and the acting head of security began to swear as well.

They had found the missing security officer.

* * *

><p>Ann-Marie sighed as the security and FBI team-up headed into the executive suite. Pulling out her cell phone, she knew it was past time to call Scott Tracy. The oldest Tracy son had left clear orders, Jeff had joked, that he was to be called if <em>anything <em>happened.

She considered this to be something. Hopefully, nothing but –

"Scott," Ann-Marie said briskly, hoping that the professional tone would belay her concern.

"_Ann-Marie? Is anything wrong? Where's Dad?"_

"There's a bit of a sit- _shit!" _Ann-Marie screeched at the sound of a bullet striking a framed print in the suite followed by several more shots.

* * *

><p>Kate was laughing at Miss Millie teasing her daughter and new son-in-law but keeping an eye on Scott. She knew how anxiously he had been waiting for his father to call.<p>

Scott smiled when he felt his phone vibrate. After watching Kate belt – and humiliate – his childhood pest (Keifer was unworthy of calling a rival), he really felt this was going to be his day. His smile turned to a frown when saw that the call was from Ann-Marie.

"Ann-Marie? Is anything wrong? Where's Dad?"

Kate and Jean had both turned and were watching with trepidation at the fear that was clearly heard in Scott's voice. He snapped his phone shut and grabbed Kate's hand. Giving Jean a quick peck on the cheek, Scott said, "Be happy, Jeannie. Thanks for a great time Miss Millie. Billy – you hurt her, they won't find the pieces. Gotta go."

Jeannie Landman, nee' Bates, looked after a rapidly disappearing Scott Tracy with a mix of concern and regret.

"No, Baby," Millie smiled at her only child. "Scotty has a new right hand. You'll be OK and so will he. You're just on different paths now."

"I know," Jeannie muttered. "But damn – do you see that? She can actually run in four inch spikes. I am seriously impressed."

As Scott ran off with Kate, neither noticed the attention they were drawing.

"What's going on?" Kate asked as they climbed into the rental car and pulled off to head to the airstrip just outside Bailey.

"Ann-Marie said there is a situation, then there were gunshots. When she got back on the phone, she said it is looking like Alan and Dad are being held hostage in his office." Glancing at Kate, he considered not telling her but figured she would find out soon enough.

"Jackson Mitchell seems to be involved. There is a chance Flint could be as well, we don't know."

Kate nodded, pulling a small case out from underneath her car seat. Withdrawing her service weapon, she checked it quickly and began to plan. Looking down at her clothes, she frowned then shrugged. She'd gone to crime scenes in worse – even if the shoes were usually more comfortable.

It was Scott that had her worried. Family was everything to him and the idea of being far from his family – especially his baby – was in danger? Heaven help anyone who tried to stop his from protecting his family. And Kate would be there to back his play.

* * *

><p>Slamming the door shut, Mitchell stomped over to where Jeff still stood next to the desk.<p>

"Did you alert them? Did you?" Mitchell screamed.

"How could I?" Jeff asked. "You've been standing over me the whole time."

Swinging around, Mitchell grabbed Alan's arm and pulled him off the couch, ignoring the teen's yelp of surprise. Luckily, Flint had suspected what was happening and had relaxed the knife away from Alan so the boy wasn't cut.

"If I don't get what I want, my money, and if we don't get out of here, you're gonna watch your son die. Or maybe I should just let Flint have some fun with him?"

"Please," Jeff begged, pale, "I'll get you the money. Just don't hurt Alan."

Alan hated hearing his proud, strong, father begging but he knew if the situation was reversed, there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect his family. And even though he was asleep when Flint's crimes had been discussed, he had heard the man call him "pretty boy" and there was something in the man's tone that made his skin crawl.

Mitchell pressed the gun to Alan's temple and tightened an arm around his throat. "OK, big man – you always told us to think outside the box, solve the problem. So you better. Or this will be the last day of your baby boy's life."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - OK, updated...So review to get responses from Alan and Scott. Have fun...CC**_


	20. Chapter 20

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough **

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Don't own Thunderbirds and don't have time to worry about it. In fact, Alan and Scott are even answering the reviews because I have to head to job 2.0.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

"Don't you think we should have called your brothers?" Kate asked for – ah, heck. She didn't know how many times she had asked Scott. All she knew was asking questions that he was refusing to answer was easier than considering how fast he was forcing their jet to go. Kansas to New York was not supposed to be possible in the time that had passed.

Yet they were preparing to land.

"No, I don't think we should have called them," Scott finally answered. "There is no way they can get here in time. If we tell John, Emily will find out and the girl doesn't need the stress at the moment. And Virgil or Sarah would stop me from killing the bastards."

"Because they're the calm ones?" Kate half-joked as she secured a shoulder holster – which did look a bit out of place over her floral sundress – and slipped her service weapon into place.

"Virgil is the calm one," Scott said as he surprised Kate by slipping a small gun into an ankle holster she hadn't even seen him put on. "Sarah would by-pass any gun and simply rip the head off of anyone stupid enough to hurt her baby. Sarah Jane," Scott murmured with a forced smile, "is a lot stronger than she looks."

"I think that is required to be a Tracy," Kate muttered as she followed Scott off of the small plane.

* * *

><p>Deciding that getting the dead security officer's body would be too time consuming, Jason Meyer's looked at the man regretfully – trying not to think of Murphy's fiancée who worked in personnel – and unlocked the connecting door between the men's and women's restrooms.<p>

Daria glanced over her shoulder and hissed at her partner, "Sanders – what is your problem?"

Greg blushed slightly and followed her to the exit door. "Never been in a women's room before. I was just curious."

Shaking her head, Daria fought down a giggle. It reminded her of something her mother always said – Males might grow old, but they never really grow up.

Making their way down the hallway, Jason began to pull his men together and call on the others present at the Towers. "As of now," he explained once they had all gathered, "Tracy Towers is on complete lockdown. These are Agents Delgado and Sanders from the FBI. Some of you met them last year during the bank robbery when they used the Towers Lobby for a command post. Agent Delgado? What do you need us to do?"

Daria looked over the gathered men and nodded. The officers – eight men and two women – all clearly showed prior military or law enforcement presence in the way they stood at attention, awaiting orders. "At this time," she began, "an unknown number of people have taken a hostile position in Jeff Tracy's office. We have every reason to believe that Mr. Tracy and his youngest son, Alan, are both in the office. The hostile forces are armed and have fired on us. We need to establish contact and try to extricate the Tracys as safely as possible."

The security officers all nodded turning their attention from Daria to Jason when he cleared his throat. "And you all should know – Murphy's dead. We have every reason to believe the hostiles are the ones who killed him."

Anger filled the eyes of all of the Tracy employees. Jeff Tracy was a good man that they all felt lucky to work for. Most of them also knew Alan and how special he was to the family. He was just a good kid, obviously cut from the same cloth as his dad. But Murphy was one of them.

These guys were going down.

Jeff's heart broke at the absolute terror in his son's eyes as the gun pressed hard enough to bruise Alan's forehead.

"Stop with your games," Jeff growled, his fear allowing some anger out. "Just tell me what you want and leave my son alone."

Mitchell chuckled coldly. "You don't get it, do you? All of this – even me putting my hands and a gun on your precious son – is what I want. I want you to suffer, I want you to know what it feels like to be helpless, to have someone deny you happiness."

Surprisingly, it was Alan who spoke up at this point.

"You miserable coward," the teen snapped. "My dad is a good man. Whatever you think he did to you, you probably did to yourself. And it takes a pair of big ones to threaten a guy who can't see you to fight back."

"What would you know of loss or being denied anything, you little shit?" Mitchell hissed.

"I know my strongest memory of my mother was being trapped in an avalanche with her while she was dying," Alan said. "I know my father was driven to the point of a nervous breakdown trying to deal with her death, five sons and running what had become Tracy Enterprises. Why do you think he ended up moving us to the Island? He needed the breathing room."

Jeff froze, in surprise. He had never known that Alan had been aware how hellish that first year after Lucy's death had been. One of the reasons Jeff had avoided a lot of interaction with his sons was because of how emotionally unbalanced he had felt. There had also been the fact that his mother hadn't been able to help much because his father had been fighting a losing balance with lymphoma. It wasn't until he overheard Scott getting ready to turn down his dream of going to Yale in order to attend Kansas State so that he could continue to care for his younger brothers that Jeff realized how much of his personal responsibility he had abdicated to his older sons.

Ann-Marie had arranged for Jeff to begin to see a councilor and by the time his father had died when Alan was six, Jeff was actively raising his own children again. What had helped was the advice the therapist had given Jeff –_ "Set a goal for yourself, Jeff. Take this tragedy and make something good of it."_ That had been the seed that had brought forth International Rescue.

When Alan began to speak again, Jeff focused on his son once more.

"It isn't easy, it isn't fair, and it's just life. So stop being a whiner-baby and blaming other people because your life sucks. If your life isn't what you wanted you have no one to blame but yourself."

Jeff was proud of Alan but at the same time he wanted to beg his fearless son to shut the hell up.

"That's a little slice of Hallmark for you," Flint sneered. "But what about our money?"

Pulling the gun from Alan's head, Mitchell pushed the teenager towards Flint who grabbed the boy and pulled him way too close for either Tracys' comfort. "Ten million dollars. I'm sure you can arrange a transfer to this bank account," Mitchell said coldly, handing Jeff a piece of paper.

Looking at his son being held by one monster while a second one played with a gun that could easily be re-aimed at Alan, Jeff gave a quick nod as he took the paper. "It will take a bit of doing," Jeff explained as he sat behind his computer.

"Don't take too long," Mitchell smirked. "Or Flint will have to find something to keep him occupied."

Seeing the lustful glances Devon Flint was giving his son, Jeff push the bile back down and focused on the screen in front of him. Just as Jeff began to type in some instructions, everyone in the room froze when the phone rang…

* * *

><p>"C'mon, c'mon," Daria muttered. "Pick up the damn phone." She sighed in relief when the other end answered.<p>

"_Hello?"_

"Mr. Tracy? It's Agent Delgado. Are you and Alan alright?"

"_They are for now," _a different voice responded.

Daria shot a concerned looked at her partner. Just as she was using a speaker phone, so was the office.

"As I said, I am FBI Agent Delgado -"

"_We're not going to speak with some bitch," _a new voice tossed out. _"Try to find a man and call us back."_

"That isn't necessary," Greg spoke up. "I am Agent Greg Sanders of the FBI. You can speak with me, can't you?"

"_Just stay back and let us complete our business with Tracy," _the first man said. _"You stay out of our way and this will all be over soon."_

"We can't let you do that, Mitchell," Jason said.

There was a long pause before Mitchell spoke up again. _"Who is this?"_

"Jason Meyers," he said. "I'm acting head of security."

"_Oh?" _Mitchell said snidely. _"Patrick out sick today?"_

"Carl Patrick is recovering from the injuries you gave him," Daria in a cold voice. "But he will recover. Mitchell – you haven't killed anyone yet. You have a chance. Give yourself up peacefully and we can work something out."

"_I notice you only reference me," _Mitchell said. _"What about my companion?"_

"Devon Flint has been accused of murder in three states," Greg slowly said. "But if he hurts a young boy and a national hero, I doubt there is a jury in the world that would spare him."

A cold chuckle sent chills down the spines of everyone who heard it. _"You said three states, Fed. And Tracy here knows about those two pretty boys in Florida. That means you do as well. Tell you what – maybe I will consider helping you close the books on eight more cases. They were all like this one – blonde, young, well-off and the image of innocence. I loved seeing their pain, their fear. It was the best part of the __**quality**__ time I spent with them."_

Seeing Ann-Marie go white, Jason reached over and pulled the woman to a chair. Motioning for her to stay put, Jason turned back to the phone and spoke again.

"We can end this peacefully. Just tell me what you want."

"_I have what I want," _Mitchell snapped. _"And soon the Big Man is going to make sure I get what I earned."_

When the call abruptly ended, the agents and Jason looked at each other in concern. "If Mitchell is more interested in revenge than money," Greg sighed, "this could end rather badly."

* * *

><p>Alan's head was pounding. He wasn't sure if it was the strain of the situation or the bright lights in his father's office. Jeff would have only used the desk lamp if they hadn't been interrupted but he was fairly sure the intruders had made sure the overhead lights were on as well.<p>

"You're both sick and twisted," Alan growled, fear for himself and his father overriding any common sense – or survival instincts – he may have usually possessed.

"Alan," Jeff begged. "Money I can earn again. But I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Anything more, you mean," the teenager muttered angrily before freezing. Alan could feel the waves of guilt coming from his father.

"Dad," Alan began, stopping in frustration. There was a lot he wanted to say to his father but there was no way in hell he was giving these scum the satisfaction.

"Oh, so sweet," Flint crooned, as he ran a hand over Alan's face. "He's worried about Daddy. Don't you know," he hissed into Alan's ear, "you are the one who is more at risk. Before we leave here, I'm going to make sure that innocent trust in those pretty blue eyes is shredded forever. You'll never forget me. If you live through this."

Feeling himself being pulled back against Flint, Alan was sickened to realize the man was sexually excited. He closed his eyes to try and stop himself from vomiting when the monster began to touch Alan under his shirt.

"Mitchell wouldn't let me have JP," Flint hissed as Alan began to struggle against him. "But he won't do anything to protect you…"

* * *

><p>Brittany had crawled out from under the desk and looked at the gun that had been dropped on the floor. She briefly thought of the gun hidden under her bed at the YWCA. Knowing that she couldn't repeatedly bring it to work – and that there was no room in her locker – Brittany had planned on only bringing it if she had to.<p>

Damn, but she wished she had. The gun in her hand now was unfamiliar, a state of the art weapon compared to the old handgun that had once belonged to her father. This one had a clip and weighed down her hand. She couldn't shoot anyone with this –

Then she heard him. _"Mitchell wouldn't let me have JP. But he won't do anything to protect you…"_

That pervert had made moves on her baby brother? And the other one had killed him?

Brittany grabbed the gun tighter. She could do this.

* * *

><p>It had taken them some time but Scott and Kate eventually had made their way up to the 81st floor. Bursting onto the scene, Scott once more flashed his ID but was stopped when he tried to enter the command post by an FBI agent. Stepping forward, Kate shoved her badge under the agent's nose.<p>

"We're coming in – now," she hissed at the agent.

Daria looked over and gave a small smile while she shook her head. "Eppsie – you are a royal pain in the ass."

Kate grinned. "Tell me something I don't know, Dorf." She quickly became serious. "What's the sitch?"

Greg looked at Kate and frowned. "Eppes – I thought you were in protective custody."

Scott eyed the man coldly. "Like I would let anything get to my Kate?"

"_His Kate?" _Daria mouthed to her friend, giving another small smile when Kate gestured to her left hand. Seeing the engagement ring on Kate's finger, Daria nodded.

"I believe we asked for a situation report," Scott said coolly as he looked at Jason.

Nodding, Meyers began. He had never seen this side of Scott Tracy before and it was kind of scary.

"Somehow, Devon Flint and Jackson Mitchell accessed the Towers. They are holding your father and brother hostage in your dad's office. We know Jeff and Alan Tracy are alive and believe them to be unharmed at the moment. Mitchell refuses to say what he wants."

Scott worried his lip as he looked at Kate, sighing as he explained. "Dad can access and transfer up to fifteen million dollars without ever leaving his computer. If Mitchell wants money, Dad can send it to any bank in the world. But not many people would know that."

"Mitchell would," Ann-Marie said from the corner of the room. "He handled the upgrades to the security software at the Towers, which included lots of financial information. But at the time of the upgrades, it was only ten million. Jeff had the amount increased when he almost lost out on a deal last month, remember?"

"That's right," Scott nodded.

"We need to get in there," Kate said urgently. "Once Mitchell has the money, there is nothing to stop them from killing the Tracys."

"Or worse," Daria muttered, exchanging worried glances with the others. "Flint is a sick bastard and Alan is vulnerable now."

Any conversation froze when a loud sound echoed through the rooms…

It had come from Jeff's office.

* * *

><p>Jeff saw a single tear roll down Alan's face as the monster groped the boy and he lost it.<p>

"Get your filthy hands off of my son!" Jeff howled, pushing Mitchell aside and running to Alan. Yanking his son away from the sexual sadist, Jeff punched Flint, breaking the man's nose.

Mitchell stood up, sighing. He hated it when things got messy. It was time to get things back under control. Pulling out the gun he had liberated from the security guard, Mitchell pointed it at Jeff and fired…

* * *

><p><strong>AN Due to CC's crazy schedule, Alan and Scott Tracy will answer reviews from ch 19.**

**Alan - Alan Tracy and this is my big brother, Scott. We'll be answering your questions today since CC is busy. For some reason she won't let Gordon back at the moment. Not sure why.**

**Scott - Because Gordon wanted to sing the answers Christmas Carol style.**

**Alan - OOH. Good call, CC**

****Sammygirl1963****

**What a tense, action filled chapter. You sure know how to leave us hanging in**  
><strong>the balance when it comes to our Tracy men and worrying about their safety.<strong>

**Hmm, I can commiserate with Jeannie bates on watching Scott run out with**  
><strong>another woman on his hands. jeannie was always there for him growing up, now<strong>  
><strong>she has to trust another woman to be there for her best friend!<strong>

**Poor Alan, you sure do know how to give the kid a rude awakening don't you!**

_****Scott - Well, isn't that nice of Jean to worry about us.****_

_**Alan - You have a soft spot for women named Jean**_

_**Scott - Well, Jean was named for Jean, you know?**_

_**Alan - OK, I officially have a headache.**_

**Alamodie**

**Omg it looks like everything's boiling up! Haha I love Daria! But seriously,**  
><strong>how can anyone run up 81 floors? Go Scott go! And Kate, with those heels, man<strong>  
><strong>am I rooting for her!<strong>

**Scott (frowns) Kate can run in heels - four inch spikes - but Daria can't run up 81 floors?**

**Alan - I could run 81 floors.**

**Scott - You run track - you have to be able to.**

**Alan - Healthy body and good shoes? You can do a lot**

**Jo1966**

**OMG poor Alan hasn't he been through enough? Who am I kidding I'm sure you**  
><strong>have more marvellous ways to torture Jeff and family by hurting Alan. So long<strong>  
><strong>as they are alright in the end. I hope you and your family have a happy<strong>  
><strong>christmas.<strong>

**Alan - Yeah? Haven't I been through enough?**

**Scott - Since CC is outling the next story, I think the answer is no.**

**bookfanatic67**

**WOW! The action is getting intense. The bad guys are truly awful, which adds**  
><strong>an element of scary to this story. I can't wait to see what you write next. I<strong>  
><strong>don't think the rescue is going to be as fast as it seems right now.<strong>

**Scott - CC doesn't do fast rescues. She says they are unrealistic.**

**Alan (frowns) - I think she just likes extending the agony.**

**Scott - You just got that? I thought you were an AP student?**

**Thunderbirdmom**

**Getting really exciting - As always love it and looking forward to more.**

**Alan - I bet you are.**

**Scott - Alan! That isn't nice. She's just being nice.**

**Alan - Scott - look at the story she wrote about me.**

**Scott (thumbs through) - Nice, nice...OH! So not nice!**

**Alan - And CC considers her one of the best new Thunderbirds writer of the year. Geesh!**

**bubzchoc**

**brilliant chapter now i guess this is were the fun begins like to see them**  
><strong>stop scott from gettin in the building<strong>

**Scott - You people have strange ideas of fun.**

**Shadowfox8**

**Okay, so first off. Yes I am alive just been in and out of the hospital, so**  
><strong>now writing for me. No fun! All I keep getting is my tests are inconclusive and we<strong>** don't know what's wrong with you...yeah. How about we shove these tests**  
><strong>and the doctors as well where the sun doesn't shine. Second, I come back to<strong>  
><strong>fanfiction and yet again you have found a new way to torture our favorite<strong>  
><strong>family. Not only have you blinded Alan, but now you have several crazy people<strong>  
><strong>after him - including the grieving sister of poor JP. Well I suppose she's no<strong>  
><strong>so much after Alan as she just thinks he deserves what happens to him. Either<strong>  
><strong>way - still psycho! Then we have Scott who is finally getting someone to love<strong>  
><strong>him and someone to give him just as much crap as he dishes out. God, I love<strong>  
><strong>Kate. Yup, my dear friend you haven't lost your touch and that is a good thing<strong>  
><strong>for us writersreaders, but a bad thing for Alan and the Tracy familly. I**  
><strong>guess I'll just have to get back to torturing the Tracy family and maybe make<strong>  
><strong>Alan finally wake back up. After all, we can't let you have all the fun hehe.<strong>

**Great chapter as always, CC. Glad to kinda be back... tty soon!**

**Alan - You sure CC doesn't write her life?**

**Scott - Nope, but word of warning - CC considers her her protege.**

**Alan - Huh. Well, I hope you are better soon, Foxy.**

**Scott - Foxy? You've been hanging around Gordon too much, Sprout.**

**Alan - Don't call me Sprout.**

**mizz-shy-gurl**

**Oh, I love that Alan's in danger again.**

**Please update soon.**

**Alan - Definately questionable sanity.**

**Scott - The update soon for a woman who works two jobs at Christmas time or loving that you are in danger again?**

**Alan - The update. The other thing is standard in this crowd.**

**Joanne Brandon**

**Poor Baby! How can those creeps be so heartless so that they threatened a**  
><strong>child. I loved the way Jeannie was impressed by Kate but also the realisation<strong>  
><strong>that someone hurt Scott's baby and there was no doubt that they were going to<strong>  
><strong>pay. I couldn't help but say Britany's thoughts out loud they were just<strong>  
><strong>shouting for an audience - for me that means I was totally drawn in! I can't<strong>  
><strong>wait for another update so please do so soon!<strong>

**Scott- It does help when a spouse and a best friend get along.**

**Alan - And if they didn't, Kansas and Tracy Island have half the country, and a lot of ocean between them.**

**JoTracy 123**

**still loving this story but did you have to leave it there. now you have me**  
><strong>wondering if Alan or Jeff is going to get out alive here. i still don't that i<strong>  
><strong>have done anything to Alan, but maybe i have lol. anyways this is getting good<strong>  
><strong>and i hope that you update soon. really looking forward to it now xx <strong>

**love**

**Jo xxx**

**Alan - Well, nothing permanent will happen to us. **

**Scott (sighs) - Guess that's the best we can hope for.**

**Susan M M**

**Ooh, this is a hard chapter to review. There's so much I like, it's hard to**  
><strong>narrow it down. If I tell you everything I like in this chapter, the review<strong>  
><strong>will be way too long. Lots of action and suspense. Anne-Marie was at her<strong>  
><strong>best. Jeff wasn't kidding about them not finding the body if Flint dared<strong>  
><strong>touch Alan. (Of course, the same could be said of us if anybody dared touch<strong>  
><strong>your little one or mine. It's just that Jeff would do it more efficiently. <strong>  
><strong>And he wouldn't mind getting his hands dirty at all.) I loved Daria making<strong>  
><strong>sure she was fit before coming back to work so no one could say a mother<strong>  
><strong>couldn't be an agent. Also liked Keifer being a pest rather than a rival, and<strong>  
><strong>Jeannie being jealous of Kate being able to run in heels. I like the<strong>  
><strong>executive bathrooms being open to secretaries and delivery boys. And I hate,<strong>  
><strong>loathe, and despise Mitchell for being such a hypocrite. He doesn't think<strong>  
><strong>rape and murder are that bad, but despite being sickened by Flint's pederasty,<strong>  
><strong>he's willing to threaten Alan with Flint. You write good scumbags, really<strong>  
><strong>scummy odious scumbags. But I know the bad guys will die or be caught<strong>  
><strong>(something tells me Brittany will be involved with that), the good guys will<strong>  
><strong>triumph (and eventually heal), and everyone will live happily ever after. But<strong>  
><strong>between now and then, you're going to whumping as many characters as possible<strong>  
><strong>with a hurt-stick.<strong>

**Alan - Please - If Queen of Cliffies hadn't been taken, that's what CC's penname would be.**

**Scott - But CC asks us to remind you, she doesn't do death fics.**

**Alan - Well, none so far. She also had never stabbed me. And now she has.**

**Scott - And run you over, and blinded you, and...**

**Alan - We get the picture, Scott.**

**laurashrub**

**Currently typing this at the airport so thank you for the distraction.**

**I find it oddly sweet that despite Scott's terror over what's happening to his**  
><strong>baby brother, he is still able to congratulate his friend and threaten her new<strong>  
><strong>husband.<strong>

**In addition...just how dead are Jackson and flint? Considering how personal**  
><strong>they have now made this.<strong>

**And because I feel sympathetic...Alan gets hugs and a Christmas present. Scott**  
><strong>can have cookies...he already has Kate with him<strong>

**Scott - Is this the one Gordon called Susan MM Hm?**

**Alan - Yep.**

**Scott - Well, she was spot on with Dad.**

**Alan - Yeah, but Dad wouldn't kill anyone.**

**Scott - Alan, if that bastard touched you, one more person would head up to Thunderbird Five than would return. Flint would find it real hard to breath once he gets tossed out of a space station.**

**Alan - Yikes.**

** BELLA X STARFIRE7745231**

** great chapter**

**Scott - What can I say? I know how to multi-task. **

**Alan - As for Flint and Jackson - *&^(%^%&$^. Hey? What gives?**

**Scott - Allie, you know CC edits this before posting. No spoilers.**

**_Alan – Once more, we thank you for encouraging her insanity._**

**_Scott – 'Nuff said._**

**Sam1**

**Dang it, CC, how could you leave it like that? Where's your Christmas spirit**  
><strong>and being nice to your loyal readers?<strong>

**You know from my snarky comments I made previously that I totally enjoyed this**  
><strong>update. Loved the bit with Scott and Kate running off when he realized<strong>  
><strong>something was very wrong.<strong>

**Please tell me you have some horrible demise planned for Flint and Mitchell?**

**_Alan – Well, in CC's eyes, updating replaces Christmas spirit. Or at least rewards them. And Sam1 KNOWS she won't say what happens to the bad guys. But CC is a firm believer in recylcling. May not have heard the end of them. So that is kinda nice._**

**_Scott – Besides, I've read Sam1's work – she's not much better. In fact, she has no issue with death fics._**

**_Alan – Yeah, and it's because of her Gordon has his Christmas card._**

**_Scott – SHE provided the John-porn?_**

**_Alan – Yep. Now, c'mon. CC laid out a spread before she went to work – ham, sweet potatoes, green beans, seasoned mash potatoes, rolls, and sweet potato pie_**

**_Scott – With real whip cream? Awesome!_**

**_Alan – Merry Christmas folks. And if you are other wise inclined: Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanza or Have a Nice Day! _**


	21. Chapter 21

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - Do not own the Thunderbirds. But feeling a tad cocky in that someone used my characters' names because they thought my characters were canon. That's when you know you are doing a good spin._**

**_Oh, and I sometimes recommend a story. May I suggest "The Best of Intentions" by Usher. I can not stop reading that one!_**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21<strong>

"Dad!" Alan cried out in terror, wrenching himself away from his tormenter. Anxiously feeling along the ground, Alan knew instantly when he had found his father – and his father's blood.

"It's ok, Alan," Jeff said through gritted teeth as Alan pressed frantic hands against the bullet wound in his shoulder.

Alan ignored his father and turned in the direction he knew the shot had come from. "You want money from my Dad? Then I need something to stop his bleeding."

Mitchell gave a small smile. The kid sure had a pair of brass ones. "Flint – there's a private restroom through that door. Towels and a couple of spare dress shirts are in a closet, so grab some and let the kid play doctor."

Flint gave Mitchell a cold glare. The kid had felt so sweet in his arms and now he was being denied his fun.

He didn't like to be denied.

In a few minutes, Alan had used some bottled water to rinse off Jeff's arm, before pouring after shave (for the alcohol) onto a cloth that he pressed to the wound, securing the towel with what was once a very nice blue cotton shirt – having rejected a silk shirt as being too slippery.

"OK," Mitchell snapped. "Daddy has a bandage on his boo-boo." He wasn't about to admit how impressed he was by the way the kid had kept his head and cared for his father.

Grabbing Jeff by his arm – luckily _not _the one he had sent a bullet through – Mitchell pulled the billionaire back up. "You need to finish what you started. Flint, grab the kid," he said carelessly, almost laughing when he saw Jeff flinch and turn around. "And Flint – keep the knife ready but don't feel him up anymore. I don't want to have to kill Daddy Tracy until after we get our money."

Jeff wanted to scream at the man. He knew Mitchell wanted to kill them once he got his money. Why wasn't he fighting him?

Then Jeff looked at a stressed out Alan, sitting on the end of the couch, trying to make himself smaller as he desperately attempted to rub his father's blood from his hands.

No matter the cost to himself, Jeff knew he had to get his youngest son out of this with as few scars as possible. But seeing the haunted look in the boy's face, the trembling blood stained hands and the tense posture from the continued presence of his tormentor, Jeff wondered if that wasn't already too late.

* * *

><p>"Dad!" Scott gasped, starting towards the door.<p>

Kate threw her arms around him, pushing him against a table to knock the air out of him. Once she had him stunned, the agent forced Scott into a chair and grabbed his face in both hands.

"Look at me, Flyboy," Kate said firmly. "I need you focused."

"How do we know they didn't just kill my father?" Scott responded morosely.

"Killing Mr. Tracy before they get their money won't do them any good," Greg mused before looking at Scott in surprise. "Why do you assume they shot your father? Your brother is in there as well."

"And Dad would die before he let anything happen to Alan," Scott said firmly before getting up and leaning over Ann-Marie, offering her gentle comfort.

"What could have happened to make it so that Mitchell or Flint would be willing to shoot Mr. Tracy before he got any money?" Jason asked as he perused the computer in front of him. They were monitoring all Tracy accounts and so far no unusual transactions had occurred. Unfortunately, if Jeff did send money to a bank out of their jurisdiction – something like Switzerland or the Cayman Islands – it would become untraceable.

Kate and Daria looked at each other, more than aware that the only thing that would make Jeff Tracy lose it was a threat to one of his boys – and Devon Flint was a preferential sexual sadist.

And Alan was just his type.

* * *

><p>Emily smiled at her husband from her seat in Jeff's office.<p>

"See? I told you I could run command and control just fine," the young physician said with a touch of pride. "And all hands were needed on this one."

"All hands and then some," John said grimly as he looked at the reports from the skyscraper inferno already being sent to him. "Virgil, Gordon, Sarah, Brains, Tin-Tin and even Fermat were all in on this." Frowning, John looked at his wife. "So who is there with you?"

"Do not worry, John" Kyrano said as he entered the room carrying a tray that he set next to Emily.

"Now, Miss Emily," the family retainer said in a fatherly tone. "You have a chicken and avocado salad with some green tea. Eat up."

Emily glared at the tea pot. "I want my Earl Gray tea back."

"And once you have the baby and your blood pressure goes back to normal, you can have it," Kyrano said reasonably. "Now you must put your feet up and eat. Onaha will be checking on you in a few minutes. If I were you, I would make as much progress as I can on that salad."

John smiled at the other man and mouthed a quick "thank you" as Kyrano left before Emily looked back at him.

"OK," Emily sighed. "Time to feed your offspring, but I will stay here to monitor things until everyone gets home." Frowning, she looked at her watch.

"John, have you heard from Dad or Scott yet?"

John shook his head. "No, but the doctor's appointment probably ran long. You know what doctors are like."

"Smart ass," Emily grumbled around a piece of chicken.

Grinning wickedly, John said in a sotto tone, "You never objected to anything about my ass before."

"John!" Emily laughed. "You better learn to watch what you say around the baby."

"Our baby is going to know how much his Daddy loves his Mommy, got it?"

"Trust me," Emily glowed. "It's a mutual feeling."

Signing off, Emily continued to eat while miles above the island, John Tracy went back to monitoring the clean up on the rescue. When Gordon called with a status update to assure his brother they were leaving and heading back home, John was relieved, sure that his anxious feeling was related to the rescue, and not to his obsessive, always on schedule, keep-lines-of-communication big brother suddenly not responding to his calls.

No, his family was alright.

They had to be.

* * *

><p>Brittany clutched the gun close to her side. She had been making sure the safety could be easily switched from on to off when a sudden "bang" almost made her drop the weapon. Looking at the handgun, Brittany wondered for a moment if she had fired it accidently when she shook her head in personal dismay.<p>

"OK, Horne," she muttered. "You are losing it." Closing her eyes, Brittany replayed the moment in her mind. She had just realized that the sound had come from Jeff Tracy's office when her eyes snapped back open as she heard Alan Tracy cry out for his father.

Biting her lip, Brittany fought back tears. It had been clear when she had met them in the coffee shop how much Jeff Tracy had loved his son and the feelings where clearly reciprocated by the teenager. "Be ok, be ok, be ok…" she muttered over and over as she crept closer to the door which was still slightly cracked open.

* * *

><p>Daria looked at the plans to Tracy Towers once more and almost threw her coffee cup in frustration. "Dammit!" she growled. Reinforced glass, computer controlled duct systems that her son couldn't crawl through – there was no means of access other than the front door.<p>

"Wait," Greg said cautiously. "What's this?" he asked, pointing to something in the far corner of Jeff Tracy's office.

Scott slapped his hand on his head. "A private elevator, going strictly from a small room with a kitchenette in Dad's office to the penthouse – I can't believe I forgot about it."

"So we use that to get to the office!" Daria said in excitement, which died quickly when Scott shook his head.

"It's small. I mean really small. My brother John – who is somewhat claustrophobic – refuses to use it. We can take the other one in the lobby all the way to the penthouse and it's a lot bigger. You could maybe fit three adults in the one in the office and it has a max weight of 500 pounds. It's mainly for Dad to sneak down here and do more paperwork when we're staying in New York," Scott joked.

Greg looked at Daria and shrugged. "So what – you, me and Eppes?"

Scott shook his head. "I'll have to be one of them. You need handprint recognition for access to the penthouse and retina scan for access to the elevator."

"You can let us in the penthouse and then get us into the elevator," Greg countered only for Scott to shake his head again.

"Only if you pry open the doors. You get two scans on the elevator – one to get it started and a second to let you out. Like I said – it is right inside our New York home. Dad is pretty protective of us."

"Alright," Kate said as she checked her weapon. "Dorf – you, me and the flyboy. Sanders – you take Meyers and hold the flank for us in the lobby of the executive suite. Meyers – position the agents and your own men at any exit points. If they get past us, they won't get far. Do we all get it?"

Daria and the others all nodded, only for Daria to nudge her former roommate as they headed to the elevators to go the penthouse. "You do know I am the AIC, right?"

Kate gave a small grin. "You may be the Agent in Charge, but I am sleeping with the guy who can get us in. So you're my bitch now – got it?"

"I'll show you bitch, Eppsie," Daria growled as the elevator doors closed.

Kate looked anxiously at Scott. The dark humor that allowed the agents to work had gone by her fiancée without so much as a blink. Closing her eyes for a moment, she found herself praying to her beloved Grandpa Eppes to look out for the people who had become family to her.

"_Please, Grandpa – you always looked out for your babies. Look out for Alan and Mr. Tracy. Scott can't lose them. Protect the people I love." _

* * *

><p>Jeff typed in the necessary codes, before sighing deeply and pushing back his chair.<p>

"Alright," he sighed. "Ten million dollars will be going into your account in twenty minutes."

"Why twenty minutes?" Mitchell asked.

"Any request over ten thousand dollars are routed from my bank and back here in order to be confirmed," Jeff explained. "And any over a million dollars require either myself or one of my sons to acknowledge it. One of my _adult_ sons," Jeff hastily added. While it was true that Alan simply wasn't trained in much of the known family business, he also didn't want to be expendable at this point. Not when he was the only thing between Alan and Flint.

"So," Flint leered, running a finger along the side of Alan's face. "What should we do to kill time?"

Jeff stood, feeling a bit woozy from blood loss. "Touch my son again and time won't be what gets killed."

"I'm – I'm OK, Dad," Alan said softly, closing his eyes in fear but unable to prevent the smothered moisture in them from leaking onto his eyelashes.

"No you're not, Allie," Jeff said in a gentle voice. "But we will be. We both will be."

Alan sniffed slightly. He may have been sixteen and too old to show weakness in front of most, but this was his father. If Jeff said it was so, Alan was sure it was the truth.

It had to be.

* * *

><p>Daria glanced discreetly around the penthouse and tried not to let her jaw drop. It wasn't palatial – but it was <em>huge. <em>There was an upstairs, even!

"Main rooms, including two bedrooms and the full bath are downstairs," Scott explained as he headed for the stairway. "The rest of the bedrooms, including Dad's, a small office for him and several ¾ baths are on the second level. The elevator is in Dad's office."

"Those stairs must have been a pain for Alan, at least now," Daria muttered.

"His is one of the downstairs bedrooms," Kate said. "John's is the other one."

"John's a midnight muncher and Alan is the only morning person in the whole family," Scott said with a small smile. "It's easier for the rest of us if we kept them separate from us."

Kate gave a small snort of amusement at that before following Scott into the small office. When compared to Jeff's office downstairs, which she had been in only once before with Scott a while back, the room was little more than a walk-in closet in contrast. What seemed to be a sliding closet door opened to reveal a small elevator. Scott opened a small panel and leaned forward for the retina scan to work. The second door opened and they climbed in. As the elevator silently moved down, Kate whispered to Scott.

"Won't it make noise when we get there?"

"No," Scott said quietly. "Dad doesn't want people to know he is going back and forth. So it's completely silent. The bastards aren't gonna know what hits them until it is too late."

As he pressed his hands around the gun in his grip, Daria raised an eyebrow at Kate who shrugged in silent response. The conversation was done without words but anyone who knew them could have interpreted it easily.

"_Can he use that?"_

"_Hell yeah."_

"_OK, do we worry more about the Tracys or the bad guys."_

"_If Alan and Jeff are alright – the Tracys; if they aren't – the bad guys."_

"_This is gonna be a lot of paperwork explaining this, isn't it?"_

"_Yes it will be, Ms. Agent-in-Charge."_

"_Bite me."_

"_Not my type."_

"_Jerk."_

"_Bitch."_

Then the elevator door slipped open and Kate pushed Scott back slightly, letting the two FBI agents take the lead of the civilian.

After all, protocol must be followed.

* * *

><p>Mitchell glared at Jeff, who was, in turn, glaring at Flint.<p>

"Do you honestly think you'll get away?" Jeff quietly asked. "You heard the FBI – they know who you are. The money may be in your account, but it won't be of any use to you."

Mitchell shrugged. "No one is going to shoot us with you and your boy with us. And you can fly your pretty little jet somewhere to get us away."

Alan snickered, finding amusement for the first time since he had been so rudely awakened. Mitchell switched his glare from the Tracy father to the Tracy baby.

"And just what the hell is so funny?" Mitchell huffed.

"Tracy One is in Kansas with Scott," Alan said, clearly amused. "He dropped us off before heading to his best friend's wedding."

Mitchell looked furious and Flint worried. This was another unexpected twist. They hadn't planned on getting caught in the Towers and they had expected to force Jeff Tracy to fly them to a non-extradition country.

In the silence, they suddenly heard a noise and Flint grabbed Alan, pulling him in front of him and placing a knife back to the teen's throat. When Jeff started to move forward, desperate to protect his son, Mitchell grabbed him by the shoulder, digging his hand into the bloody make-shift bandage, forcing Jeff to his knees as the billionaire almost blacked out in pain.

"Olly-olly, oxen-free," Mitchell hissed.

* * *

><p>Brittany had crawled into Jeff's office, keeping low to the ground as she made her way to hide under a table located near the door. But the table was lower than she had thought and Brittany bumped the table, causing some files on the surface to shift, making a small noise.<p>

Unfortunately, the noise was as loud as a roll of thunder in the sudden silence of the room. To Brittany's horror, one of the men grabbed Alan Tracy and began to hold a knife to the boy's throat. Suddenly, the young woman's vision seemed to blur and in place of Alan she could only see JP. Brittany wanted to scream at the man to let her brother go but new voices interrupted her thoughts.

"FBI!"

* * *

><p>Scott stood behind Kate who was, in turn, behind Daria. The kitchenette wasn't much bigger than the elevator had been, with a coffee maker, microwave and a small fridge – the first two actually crowded underneath the one set of cabinets in the room.<p>

Daria began to slowly ease open the door, knowing from the plans that they would be around the corner from the main portion of the office. It would be best if the three of them were out of the kitchenette before they confronted the bad guys.

Giving a silent signal to Kate, the agent slipped out and motioned for her former roommate to follow her. Kate did and gestured for Scott to emerge as well. The three froze against the wall as they heard Jeff Tracy speak.

"_Do you honestly think you'll get away? You heard the FBI – they know who you are. The money may be in your account, but it won't be of any use to you."_

"_No one is going to shoot us with you and your boy with us. And you can fly your pretty little jet somewhere to get us away."_

Scott almost sighed in relief when he heard Alan snicker. His little brother must be alright.

"_And just what the hell is so funny?" _

"_Tracy One is in Kansas with Scott," _Alan answered, clearly amused at the man's presumption._ "He dropped us off before heading to his best friend's wedding."_

Daria glanced at the sundress and high heels Kate was wearing and almost snickered. Well, at least that was one thing explained.

Dragging in a breath, Daria was about to give the signal to move forward when they heard a slight noise, almost like paper sliding across a wooden surface. Next they could hear the sounds of movement, a stilted voice of protest by Jeff Tracy that was followed by a gasp of pain, presumably also by the father.

"_Olly-olly, oxen-free," _was called out, making it clear that someone knew they were there.

Glancing at Daria, Kate nodded. It was time to go all-in.

Both women whipped around the corner, guns drawn, calling out, "FBI!"

The sight in front of them made their blood run cold…

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - Sammygirl1963 said the argument between Kate and Daria reminded her of Sam and Dean Winchester. It should. Daria is designed as real smart and rather dry witted. Kate is brassy and bold and as protective of her family as Dean is. They are kindred spirits. **_

_**Ten reviews by Tuesday gets a new chapter by that night. Oh, and who says I can't hurt someone besides Alan. I shot Jeff, didn't I? - CC**_


	22. Chapter 22

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - Don't own Thunderbirds or Numb3rs - since more than my OC of Kate Eppes is mentioned here - but it is a short, yet critical chapter. Read on!_**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22<strong>

Kate Eppes had been scared before. She had been angry before. As her mother so often complained, she had more than her full share of her father's temper. But Kate often surmised that one of the reasons Don Eppes so easily got angry was the same reason his daughter preferred getting mad – it was easier to stay in control of a situation when you were angry than scared.

Seeing Alan Tracy, a boy she had come to think of as a little brother, being held by a known sexual sadist with a knife at the teenager's throat, definitely scared the hell out of her.

It wasn't just the idea of that sick bastard having his hands on an innocent kid. Worse, that he also had a weapon in dangerously close proximity to Alan. Nope. It was the fact that Scott was just around the corner and this was a sight guaranteed to make her fiancée ape shit.

That Jeff Tracy was kneeling on the ground with Jackson Mitchell standing behind him, one hand holding a handgun, the second clenching down painfully on the billionaire's blood soaked shoulder, was not missed by the FBI agent.

"Your fiancée isn't gonna like this," Daria muttered.

"Ya think?" Kate grumbled. "Scott, stay back," she whispered as she took a step forward, pausing when both fugitives tightened their grips on their hostages.

"There is no reason that anyone needs to get hurt," Daria said calmly.

"I can think of a few," Kate snapped.

"We have the upper hand here, Eppes," Mitchell gloated. "So this is what is gonna happen -"

"Stop right there," Daria interrupted. "All that is going to happen is that you are going to release your hostages, drop your weapons and surrender."

"Is this how the FBI teaches negotiation tactics these days?" Mitchell snapped.

"Didn't you hear, Mitchell?" Kate retorted. "Your actions fall under the anti-terrorism laws. That makes you a terrorist and the United States government does not negotiate with terrorist. So pull your head out of your ass, step away from Mr. Tracy and drop your weapon."

Mitchell started to lower his weapon when Flint began to yell, wrapping his arm around Alan's throat so tightly that the teenager couldn't breathe.

"I'm not being taken down by a couple of bitches! You want this kid back? I'll give you him back!" Raising his knife, Flint looked at Kate with madness in his eyes.

"I didn't say I'd give him back alive."

The knife began a swift arc towards Alan…

* * *

><p>"Should we go in?" Jason whispered to Greg as the two stood ready if anyone left the office.<p>

"Um – how well do you know Kate Eppes?" the FBI agent asked.

"I know that Mr. Tracy has offered her a job, and that Ann-Marie is convinced Scott Tracy wants to marry her."

Greg looked at the other man in surprise, the first thing more of a shock than the second.

After all, Scott Tracy had said "my Kate" and had even called the other agent "Katie" at one point.

And NOBODY called Kate Eppes, Katie.

"Well, Tracy Industries gain will definitely be the FBI's loss," Greg sighed. "Kate Eppes has an amazing rep and track record. But if she is serious about Scott Tracy I can understand why she would be looking to leave the Bureau. Marriages – hell, just relationships – have a hard time surviving the demands being with the FBI places on you."

"I will tell you what I know," Greg continued. "Kate Eppes has a reputation for being a hard-ass, crack shot, tough as nails, agent. In fact, there has only been one agent in recent times who has been spoken of which some a combination of awe and envy."

"Let me guess," Jason said. "Your partner?"

"Nah," Greg shook his head. "Daria is great but not on the level of Eppes."

"You already said Kate Eppes was respected," Jason interjected.

"I meant her father, Don Eppes, Director of the FBI," Greg said ruefully. "Trust me – they thought they broke the mold on him until Kate came along. Might be interesting to see what her kids become."

"So – worry more about the bad guys?" Jason grinned.

"Worry more about the paperwork involved," Greg sighed, causing Jason to frown as well before they both sighed.

"Damn."

* * *

><p>John Tracy typed up the last of his notes with a sigh of satisfaction. There, another book finished. Oh, there would be some fine tuning but as long as he had this done and sent off to his publisher, John could focus on more important things.<p>

"Keith Tracy," John grinned as he leaned back in his chair. His son was due in October and he couldn't wait to hold him. John frowned slightly as he recalled Alan's instance that the first Tracy grandchild could be a girl.

But really – there hadn't been a Tracy daughter born since the family had come to America and that was more than two hundred years. Even on his grandmother's side, daughters were rare. He didn't know much about his mother's family, Lucy Tracy having been orphaned at age seven when a fire had ripped through her family's apartment building. The traumatized child was placed in foster care and by the time she was recovered enough to be adoptable – well, as Lucy sighed once, people wanted babies, or at least toddlers. Not a ten year old with a traumatic past. Maybe that was why Lucy had been so anxious to fill their home with children – so that each child would know that they would never walk through this life alone.

John thought of the old saying "it takes a village to raise a child". Screw that. It took a loving, supportive family. Whether that family was one person or thirty that was what it took.

It just so happened that in his child's case it would be closer to thirty by the time all of his brothers married and reproduced.

Thinking of his brothers, John frowned as he looked at his watch. No call from Dad yet. John decided not to act like a worry-wart. He wouldn't call his father.

He'd call Scott. If he knew his older brother – and John did – Scott would call Dad immediately and any flack would go to Scott if needed. John had long learned to be as cunning as Gordon – just a lot more discreet, something Alan was beginning to pick-up on. "Fish-face could learn a thing or two from a blonde," John snickered as he placed a call to Scott's cell phone.

* * *

><p>Gordon Tracy was getting anxious to get back to base. Brains looked over at him with a raised eyebrow.<p>

"Wh-what's up, Gordon?" the scientist asked in concern.

"I don't know," Gordon said. "I guess I thought we would have heard from Dad by now."

Tin-Tin was buckling herself in and shrugged. "You know Mr. Tracy would not call if we were on a mission."

"No," Sarah agreed. "But he would have called at least Scott who would have sent word."

"True -" Tin-Tin agreed only to suddenly gasp. Instantly, Sarah was out of her seat and ran towards the teenager.

"Tin-Tin?" Sarah asked, worry in her voice and eyes. "Are you alright?" She glanced over at Fermat, silently asking if he had seen the other teen get hurt.

"Alan," Tin-Tin gasped. "Something's wrong with Alan."

Sarah had heard stories of the special abilities that the Malaysian family had and, added to the uncomfortable feeling the rest of them had, she radioed Virgil who was in the rare position of piloting Thunderbird One.

"Virg – call your father. Something is wrong. I don't know what, but something is wrong."

* * *

><p>Alan Eppes had often felt he was born to be a grandfather. Being a grandfather was wonderful . You didn't smother your grandkids, you protected them. You didn't overindulge a grandchild – it was grandparent's privilege to spoil the children. And you didn't override them – you shared your wisdom.<p>

He had not been too sure of being a father at times. His firstborn, Don, was so unlike Alan and his wife, Margaret, in so many ways and just like them in others – like being protective and stubborn. Their younger son, Charlie, was brilliant – no, a genius – and for years Alan had despaired, wondering if anyone other than Margaret Eppes understood their gentle boy.

But his worry had been for nothing. Don had become an FBI agent, while Charlie pursued academics. It was Don's work and Charlie's consulting that had pulled them together, something that Alan had feared to never see. Eventually, Charlie had married a fellow professor, Amita, and gave Alan the first of three grandchildren. In time, Don had a – relatively – safe desk job, married Robin and blessed him with three more grandchildren. The youngest one, Katie, had always held a special place in his heart. When she had followed her father into the FBI, Alan had been hard-pressed not to lose it. But he had dealt with it when Don did it and nothing would stop him from watching over his precious baby girl.

Not even being dead.

Alan had always come when Katie called – for any triumph, or hurt. There wasn't a boo-boo he hadn't been willing to kiss better or anyone who cheered louder for his Katie-Bear. Well, maybe Don. But being retired had given Alan the ability to be there without worrying about a work schedule.

And today was no different. Alan had seen how fast and hard Katie had fallen for Scott Tracy, how she had quickly come to love his family. And he knew what a special place the youngest Tracy son had in his granddaughter's heart.

So Alan had made a habit of keeping an eye on the teenager. Alan Tracy – well, he guessed no great grandsons would be named for him in that family – was a bit of a trouble magnet, but was a good boy. And he sure didn't need this monster after him.

Grandpa Eppes was good at observing but it was almost impossible to interfere…Yet somehow, he thought the teenager had sensed him several times. Others had told Alan Eppes that that could happen with some people…

When Flint began to swing his knife, Grandpa Eppes suddenly yelled in Alan's ears – "DUCK!"

* * *

><p>Scott heard Kate's ever-so-slight intake of breath and fought with his instincts to leap forward. Something was wrong – he knew it…<p>

Shaking his head, Scott forced himself to pay attention to what was being said. His heart leapt into his throat when he heard Flint speak –

"_I'm not being taken down by a couple of bitches! You want this kid back? I'll give you him back! I didn't say I'd give him back alive."_

_Alan – _Scott almost gasped out loud. But before he could say or do anything the phone on Jeff's desk began to ring. Scott could sense more than hear the entire room being distracted. He started to ease forward, to see if he could help, his own forgotten cell phone began to ring…

And all hell broke loose.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Alan - Hi, Alan Tracy here once more. CC has more time this week but seeing how much you enjoy hearing from us, we decided to answer ourselves. And speaking of ourselves, may I introduce you to my favorite blonde brother, John Tracy.<em> _John - I'm your only blonde brother, Sprout._ _Alan - Eh. But I am the only one who says that about you._ _John (sighs) We have GOT to stop you from hanging around Gordon so much. OK, on with the reviews. The first is from _Laurashrub, who writes:**

**Tension mounts, people are armed and someone besides Alan just got hurt. The mind BOGGLES! I've grown very fond of Brittany of late. I think it is the courage (or foolishness) it takes to creep into a room of two armed men. I ask that she gets her moment of awesome...WITHOUT DYING!**

** _John - I don't know what to say. She is excited that Dad was shot and worried Brittany could also be shot._**

**_Alan - Given CC's record, I think it is more she was stunned and resigned. OK, the next one if from _Joanne Brandon:**

**I'm reviewing - don't shoot them:D. You're a good writer so naturally that mistake can't be that uncommon. I feel so bad for Allie as not only is he doing the impossible but he also can't see! I enjoyed the subtlies of Alan being calm, made me think he'll be a perfect Thunderbird. You were totally right the conversations between Kate and Daria where even better and had me laughing so hard - especially the Jerk ** part - I have to agree about the Supernatural parallels but it totally fits the characters. I enjoyed the bedroom explanation and how the family parts were brought in despite the drama. Lovely chapter and I'll eagerley await the update on Tuesday!**

**_Alan - So everyone agrees I'll make a good Thunderbird. Cool._**

**_John - Yeah, and I wish we had some kind of recording of that who interaction between Daria and Kate. It sounded cool. But my concern is that Emily, Sarah and Kate will be ganging up on us. Oh, well - the price we must pay. _**

**_Alan - I guess so. Let's move on. _twilightgirl00000001 wrote -**

**Ahhh! Jeff! Well at least he didn't get hit in the head or heart or something drastic like that. He lives to see the next day! Right... And is it okay if I jump into my computer to punch Flint...please...like really every chapter makes me hate him more and more. Ohh and Brittany, I really hope she shoots someone...meaning Flint or Mitchell. That would be nice. I like her. I also like that little scene between John and Emily. Update soon please...hopefully by Tuesday :D**

**_Alan - It would be NICE if Brittany gets to shoot someone?_**

**_John - Only the bad guys. _**

**_Alan (shrugs) OK, I guess that works. Oh, and never worry - CC wouldn't seriously wound Dad when she only has a couple of chapters left._**

**_John - It worries me that you have become so accepting of this. Oh, well. Now, this is from _fledglingfeathers.**

**Aaaah! You are such a queen of cliffhangers. Poor Alan, Poor Jeff! I am eager to find out how you are going to wrap this up... **

**_Alan - You know, even if she had to add something to it, CC really should consider the name change. Something like "Her Supremem Evil One, the Queen of Cliffies"._**

**_John - And for _bella X starfire 7745231 _who wrote _Great chapter!(: _and _Autohumans _who said _Another cliff hanger? Your cruel_ I say stop encouraging her and tell us something we don't know._**

**_Alan - You're channeling Scott again, Johnny. So - on to _Mizz-Shy-Gurl _who said:_**

**Ah...yes. When you pointed out that in my last review I said it was ok if Alan gets shot, I realised how much of a psycho I actually am. Ooh, everything's kicking off now, can't wait for the update. Please update soon. Happy New Year!**

**_Alan - See John? I told you._**

**_John - OK, I will give you that one. There are people out there more disturbing than CC._**

**_Alan - And now, we have jo1966 who says:_**

**You SHOT Jeff, that's new, I was so sure it was gonna be Alan! Nice twist. I just love Jeff and Alan in this story, the way they are both protective of each other, very sweet. I seriously doubt that the bad guys have any idea of the world of hurt that is going to befall them. Majorly angry Scott, Kate and Daria not to mention Brittany seems to be getting on the act as well. I can't wait for the payback they will be bringing. I hope so anyway. Brilliant writing as always.**

**_Alan - See? Some people like me and DON'T want me shot._**

**_John - I just wonder if anyone notices that Kate is surpassing Scott in the one to fear._**

**_Alan - Which means CC's readers are also very smart._**

**_John - Point. OK, ooh, one of my faves - _Iniysa _writes:_**

**Another amazing chapter, leaving the reader on the edge of their seats, desk chairs, beds etc. Holding their breath, hands clutching tightly, eyes wide frozen to the black words on their white screens... and then it ends in yet another dreadful cliffhanger that keeps us checking out inbox daily, sometimes hourly... for more, more, more! Can't wait, Lauren**

**_Alan - So the readers' torture ends - kinda - but ours continues?_**

**_John - SOP for CC, right? Right. So _Bookfanatic67 _said:_**

**What a great start to the new year. Jeff is shot, Brittany is causing problems and Scott, Kate and Daria are now confronting the bad guys. Waiting on pins and needles for what comes next.**

**_John - And you thought _Mizz-Shy-Gurl _was bad?_**

**_Alan - I stand corrected. Next on the hit parade?_**

**_John - Oh, that would be _Sammygirl1963.**

**_Alan - Oh, Lord - CC's chief cheerleader. Hey, I just noticed, no review from your stalker, Sam1._**

**_John - Don't worry - she's out there. I know it. I can feel it...In a creepy kinda way. Anyhow, what did Jean have to say? (clears throat):_**

**Ya know CC, it's probably a good thing that Kate was there to calm Scott down after that gun went off in his father's office,Kate is probably the only one other than Jeff that could have kept him running off half cocked into a life threatening situation where his family is concerned. You have to love how Alan is being so everything he's been through, he still had the guts to stand up to Mitchell so that he could treat his father's gunshot wound. LOL, love Kate calling Daria her ** since she was sleeping with the flyboy whou could get them where they needed to 's the Kate we all know and love! Okay, so you got me more?You know I am dying to read more about my favorite family!**

**_Alan - Of course, I stood up to Mitchell. It was for family. Same reason Kate is being strong for Scott._**

**_John (laughing) - Seriously? Kate called Daria her bitch? I love it!_**

**_Alan - John, what have we said about encouraging lunacy._**

**_John - Well, I have to - Gordon is our brother._**

**_Alan (shaking his head) - OK, what does _ThunderbirdMom have to say?**

**Very much enjoying your story. Count this as one of the ten!**

**_John - OK, that one was harmless. Now, we also have responses from _JoTracy123 _who said_: oh you are still evil but loving this make sure you update soon. _Hmmm - harmless. _Akira Setsuka responded Ahhhh. A cliffhanger! Please, please, please update? *puppy eyes* _When will they learn? CC is immune to puppy eyes. She's a cat person. Sigh. Oh, and _bubzchoc _wrote _brilliant chapter.**

**_Alan - Like that won't encourage CC. (picks up next paper) _BloodyBlueRose13 _writes:_**

**_CC im a new reviewer but I love your Thunderbird stories but the way you left this chapter reminded me why I hate to read stories that are not finished cause I hate cliffhangers so mean :'( but can't wait till the next chapter BBR13_**

**_John - Great, a new CC convert. OK, me next - _Pony Girl-Sakura _said that _Their misery makes Me smile. hope you had a great holiday season CC Please update soon for this overworked and under paid cook ;)**

**_Alan - I need to find out where she is a cook._**

**_John - So you can eat there?_**

**_Alan - NO! So I can never eat there. She may be a great cook but she's scary._**

**_John - Will give you that. Now..._mickiecuteknight - _neat name - said _**

**My laptop just got fixed and I'm happy. It was driving me crazy not being able to read this story. It is really good. I love where Daria and Kate argues even without words. You sure know how to leave cliffhangers. Can hardly wait for the next chapter.**

**_Alan - They're encouraging her again._**

**_John - I looked at her outline. Almost done._**

**_Alan - But you know what happens when she finishes one story._**

**_John - (sigh) Yep. She's outlining the next. I hacked her e-mails. You know, CC had no idea what to do next but Jean kept pushing her and she got a - and I quote - "A scathingly brilliant idea". _**

**_Alan - Which means what for me?_**

**_John - You don't wanna know Sprout - you don't wanna know._**

**_Alan (pounds head into table) - Please say she at least left some good food. _**

**_John - Butter Rum Cake and Hot Apple cider. Happy New Year, and live like it was the end of times. Which, if the Mayans are correct, it is._**

**_Alan - Depress much and - OMG - good cake. Happy New Year, folk?_**


	23. Chapter 23

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Don't own Thunderbirds or Numb3rs. Sigh. After this many stories, you would think I wouldn't have to say that.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23<strong>

Flint lunged forward, the knife slowing as it caught the sleeve of Alan's shirt as he dropped to a command of a voice that seemed to whisper and scream in his ear at the same time. The knife continued its arc down and would have lodged in the escaped convict's own leg if a bullet hadn't found its own way into Flint's body – but that went a bit higher up.

Even as Flint began to drop from the force of the bullet, Kate – who had been keeping an eye on Jackson Mitchell – noticed that the man was quick to take advantage of the distraction of the ringing phones. Thinking that Kate's full focus would be on Alan and Flint, Mitchell had decided to get his revenge of Kate Eppes and turned his gun on the agent who had brought him down.

Raising his weapon, Mitchell aimed at Kate's head only to miss when her shot caught him in the right shoulder, shattering his clavicle. But since he had already begun to fire, the bullet from his own gun was quickly lodged in Kate's left leg, causing her to drop to the ground. Kate and Mitchell both were on the floor of the office, their blood assuring that Jeff Tracy would need to replace the carpet.

Scott came around the corner, his weapon raised, eying the two threats to his family. Seeing that Flint and Mitchell were both disabled from the shots, Scott waited until Daria had grabbed the men's weapons, using a folded glove from her pocket in order to assure no loss of forensic evidence on either the gun or the knife. Placing them on the desk, Daria looked at Scott and motioned for him to examine the wounded. Moving to the door, she opened it and called over her shoulder – "Greg – we need back up!"

Sanders and Jason rushed into the room, guns ready only to see the two suspects down.

But unfortunately, Jeff and Alan Tracy were also injured.

Jeff looked up at his oldest son as he leaned against the desk. "I'll be fine, Scott," he said harshly. "Check your brother."

Jason was pushing Flint off of Alan as the unconscious man groaned in pain without waking. The acting head of security looked up at Scott as he knelt beside his brother.

"The knife barely scratched his arm. It won't even need stitches." Looking at Jeff, he asked, "Was he injured before?"

Shaking his head, Jeff looked in fear and confusion at Scott. "No – scared, but not hurt. Why is he unconscious?"

Another agent leaned in and after taking in the scene, got on his phone. Reentering the room, he said to Daria, "Ambulances are on their way. I'll send a couple of the security guys to lead them up here."

Daria nodded, looking around before suddenly reaching down and grabbing Brittany from her hiding place. "Gotcha. Who are you and what are you doing in here?"

Jeff looked up in surprise. "She works in the coffee shop. Um…"

"Brittany," she said sadly. "Brittany Horne."

"JP Horne's sister?" Greg asked in shock. "Lady, we have been trying to speak with you for weeks. Where the hell have you been?"

"Here," Brittany quietly responded. "I needed to know what happened to my little brother." Meeting Scott's eyes she firmly continued. "He was my baby brother. I had to make sure whoever killed him paid for it." Glancing at Alan, her eyes softened.

"After meeting Alan, I had hoped the Tracys had nothing to do with it. And when I overheard that monster –When I realized those two had threatened my brother and caused his death…Well, I couldn't bring back Jeffy, but I wasn't going to let them hurt another innocent boy."

"She get him in the thigh?" Kate asked as she pressed a towel another agent had handed her to own injury.

"The groin," Scott said with a grin. "If he makes it, the bastard will never rape anyone again."

"Lady," Greg snickered, "you need to get some target practice."

"My father was retired military," Brittany said coldly. "He taught me how to shoot and trust me – I don't miss."

Every conscious male there looked at her with wider eyes and felt the urge to assume a protective position. They almost felt sympathy for the unconscious man but remembering what he had done pushed it quickly aside.

Several New York City paramedics chose that moment to enter the room, quickly preparing the escaped convicts and their victims for transport. Three ambulances later, all five wounded parties – with Scott remaining with his fiancé – were headed to the hospital. Once the room was emptied, Greg looked around at the blood on the floor and chuckled darkly.

"What the hell is so funny?" Daria grumbled as she reluctantly turned Brittany over for further questioning.

"Not sure who has more work ahead of them – us with the reports to explain all of this or Tracy's cleaning personnel," Greg answered.

"You," Ann-Marie responded from the doorway. "I'm calling to have the rug replaced. Jeff was thinking of doing it anyways, so I had already ordered new carpeting. The rest isn't too bad." Looking at Daria, she asked," Where is Ms. Horne?"

"She's being taken downtown -" was all Daria got to say before Ann-Marie cut her off.

"Your office? OK, I will have a lawyer meet her there," Ann-Marie said efficiently.

"Wait," Daria said. "Do you realize she lied -"

"Brittany Horne was never asked if her late brother worked here," Ann-Marie said patiently even as she sent a message off. "But do you honestly think I would allow anyone near the Tracys and not be aware who she was? I insisted on a full background check when the agency wanted to place her here. I questioned her reasoning but as long as she was not causing any harm…Well, in her place I would want answers, too. And she got them and turned out to be useful in this situation. At Tracy Enterprises, we take care of our employees." Looking up at Daria, she continued.

"That young woman lost the last of her family protecting one of ours. We'll be her family now, if she wants us to be."

As Ann-Marie swept out of the office, Daria nudged her partner. "Damn – wonder if Mr. Tracy would loan her out?"

The two agents looked at each other and grinned. "Nah," they said in sync, before heading off to the hospital. They had to get status on the wounded before starting their reports. As far as days off went – this one was sunk.

* * *

><p>Gordon Tracy looked over at Tin-Tin with the same trepidation that most people would eye a ticking bomb. Most of the time it was easy to dismiss the easy going teenage girl –which in and of itself should be an oxymoron – but Tin-Tin was convinced something was wrong with Alan. And considering the last time she had felt that way had been the day of the bombing…<p>

To make things worse, Scott's cell had gone to voice mail – something that almost _never _happened – and John had tried every number he could think of for Dad with no success. Thus, the reason why the fourth Tracy son and the girlfriend of the fifth were currently in route to New York City – because Tracys did not like feeling helpless, they had to do something. Even if that something was heading straight towards what could be a bad situation.

"John," Gordon radioed to his space-dwelling brother. "We are approaching the Eastern seaboard. Any contact yet from the Elders?"

"Darn it, Gordy," John answered from Thunderbird Five. "We already had to repair Tracy Two from my wife. How hard did you push it?"

"Well," Gordon admitted, "we did do some upgrades to Two while we repaired her. It's about as fast as One now, so -"

"Never mind," John responded. "And no, no word. I'm considering calling -"

"Gordon," Sarah's voice broke in. "I just got off the phone with Ann-Marie. Don't go to the Towers -"

"What do you mean, don't go to the Towers?" Gordon snapped. "I need to see my family."

"Then you need to go to New York Presbyterian," Virgil explained. "Ann-Marie didn't have a lot of details but Alan, Dad and Kate all needed medical attention."

"Kate?" John's voice reflected his surprise – or maybe dismay. "But she and Scott were in Kansas…Wait, Tracy One is in Manhattan according to its homing device. Virg, did Ann-Marie say what happened?"

"She said she didn't have a lot of details," Virgil responded. "But apparently Jackson Mitchell and Devon Flint were both involved."

"Where the hell are the bastards?" Gordon growled.

Sarah snapped. "I don't know. Ann-Marie said she would make sure they didn't tell any of us. Some nonsense about making sure they get to trial alive. Seems a waste of time and money if you ask me."

Gordon held back a snicker at that but when he met Tin-Tin's eyes he was glad he had. Tracy women, he decided, were far scarier than Tracy men.

"OK," Gordon said. "I'll call once I know anything. You guys do the same, OK?"

Once his brothers had given their confirmations, Gordon began the descent to Kennedy Airport.

* * *

><p>Kate Eppes was as different from her cousin Edward as two people could be. Then again, Edward was just like his father – gentle and amiable.<p>

Those two words had never been applied to Kate and Don Eppes.

Dr. Robert Wetherall was desperately wishing he had Edward Eppes there at the moment - if only to calm his patient down.

"Dammit!" Kate snapped. "I'm fine. Give me a bandage and a crutch so I can go to my family."

"No," a new voice broke in as Scott Tracy entered the room. Quickly examining Kate's injury, he raised an eyebrow at the doctor. "She is aware that the bullet is still in her thigh, correct?"

"That doesn't seem to make a difference to Agent Eppes," Dr. Wetherall said sourly. He made sure to emphasize "Agent" having mistakenly called Kate "Miss" earlier.

Scott grasped Kate's shoulders firmly but gently. "Katie, please – Dad is in surgery, Alan is still unconscious. Just do what the doctor says and don't make me worry about you as well."

"But that's why I want to be with you," Kate argued.

"And I need you better," Scott said gently. "Please – let the doctor get the bullet out and we'll take it from there. Ann-Marie called the Island, so I expect reinforcements soon. Don't make me call your father," he teased.

"Too late," Don Eppes said from the doorway. Kate and Scott both froze and looked at the FBI Director with trepidation.

"Scott," the older man continued, his steel gray hair a good match for his steely gaze, one that made Scott feel like an amateur at intimidation. "Your father is in surgery but Alan shouldn't wake up alone. Go be with your little brother. Kate isn't your responsibility." Glancing at the diamond ring that his daughter was not wearing when he last saw her, Don sighed.

"At least not yet."

Scott gave Kate a quick kiss on the cheek before deciding that Don Eppes was both correct – and intimidating as all hell.

"I can take care of myself," Kate grumbled as the doctor, after a small gesture from her father, continued to treat her leg, making orders to prepare her for surgery.

"Yeah, you're doing a hell of a job," Don snapped. "Dammit, Katie – what were you thinking? This wasn't your case. You don't get involved in a case that you have a personal interest."

"I've heard the stories, Dad," Katie snapped back. "You have no room to throw stones."

Don gave a small nod. "OK, I will give you that. But I expect you to learn from my mistakes. You do know you might face an inquiry for today?"

Kate shrugged. "I was going to be handing in my resignation anyways," Kate admitted.

Turning slightly to allow the nurse to finish getting Kate ready to have the bullet removed, Don nodded again. "Figured as much. Jeff Tracy admitted that no matter what worked out between you and Scott, he wanted you for a position with his company."

"He said that?" Kate muttered as the medication the nurse had administered beginning to make her drowsy. "My future boss told my current boss he wanted to hire me away?"

"No," Don said softly. "A good man wanted a worried father to know that he didn't have to worry as much soon. Baby, I have been afraid of that call in the middle of the night ever since you joined the Bureau. You have a job lined up that you don't have to worry about leaving your kids without a parent. And it looks like Scott is laying a claim to you as well."

"Maybe," Kate murmured drowsily, "I claimed him."

"TMI Baby Girl," Don chuckled as he pulled Kate's blanket up like he had when she was little. "A daddy never wants to know that."

Don watched as the medical staff took his daughter away to remove the bullet from her leg before he sat down abruptly on a stool in the exam room, tears falling down his face as his shoulders shook with deep sobs.

"God, Dad," Don murmured. "How did you take this for years? I don't think I'm strong enough."

Suddenly, Don smelled the sandalwood aftershave his father had always favored and could have sworn he felt Alan Eppes' firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. Don once more heard what his father had said to him after Kate was shot when she was nine. _"Donnie – you'll be as strong as you need to be. It's what fathers do."_

Standing, Don decided to look for a washroom to clear his face and mind. He still had to call his wife – and he wasn't looking forward to that.

* * *

><p>Scott Tracy sat by the bed of his way-too-silent and much-too-still youngest brother and sighed in frustration. It seemed at times that he had done this too often in the last couple of years.<p>

"Really, Sprout," Scott murmured as he ran a gentle hand over Alan's golden locks. "You need to give us a break, ok?"

"Mr. Tracy?"

Scott turned to see a shapely red-headed nurse smiling at him before she spoke again.

"Dr. Duval said to let you know that your father is headed to recovery and Dr. Simone said she will meet you both there to discuss your brother's condition."

Taking Alan's hand in his, Scott frowned. "I can't leave Allie alone -" he began when a new voice interrupted.

"I'll stay with Alan," Tin-Tin offered as she and Gordon entered the room.

"I can stay with Al as well," Gordon said only to see Tin-Tin shake her head.

"Gordon, I know you want to see your father as well. Why not assure yourself that Mr. Tracy is well, and then you can all return here. I will send word if Alan awakens."

"Miss, I don't think -" the nurse began only to be cut off.

"Tin-Tin is Alan's fiancée," Scott said firmly.

"She's fifteen," the nurse said in disbelief.

"Sixteen," Tin-Tin countered. Before the nurse could say anything, Gordon took both her and Alan's hands to show the purity rings.

"Betrothal rings – a Malaysian custom. We view Tin-Tin already as family." Looking at Scott he shrugged, "But maybe one of us should stay -"

"I may need back-up, Fish-face," Scott sighed. "Dad is gonna be as bad as Kate. That reminds me," Scott said, turning to the nurse. "Can you make sure that I am alerted when my fiancée comes out of surgery?"

"Fiancée?" the nurse said, not as warm and friendly as she had been a moment before.

Scott, clueless to the reason for the sudden coolness, nodded. "Yes, Katherine Eppes. Her father is here as well, but I would appreciate being kept in the loop. Dr. Wetherall knows me."

The nurse nodded and walked out of the room as Gordon chuckled. "You missed a shot at that nurse – or she missed one for you."

"Huh?" Scott said in distraction only to be startled when Gordon and Tin-Tin chuckled.

"Never mind him, Scott," Tin-Tin smiled. "And congratulations on your engagement."

"Likewise," Scott chuckled as he and Gordon left the room. Tin-Tin could hear them in the hallway.

"_Alan and Tin engaged?" _Gordon chuckled. "_You__ would freak if the Sprout gets engaged before he graduates college, forget high school."_

"_Yeah?" _Scott snapped without any anger. _"Betrothal rings? What hole did you pull that one from?"_

Tin-Tin sat on the bed beside Alan before she sighed and leaned her upper body down, drawing her legs up so that she was cuddled beside her boyfriend. They may have made the decision to remain, well, _pure _but there was nothing wrong with a little cuddling. Sighing in relief, the teenage girl couldn't help but smile.

This just felt so right.

As Tin-Tin drifted off, she barely noticed when Alan began to stir…

* * *

><p>Jeff was drowsy, the anesthesia wearing off as he was wheeled into recovery. As he began to wake up, memory flooded back and he became frantic.<p>

"My son," Jeff murmured as he tried to sit up. "Alan. My son, Alan – where is he?"

The nurse tried to calm him down to no avail. Finally, Dr. Duval, who had entered the room when the nurse called him told an attendant to fetch Scott Tracy.

Scott entered the room and was immediately at his father's side, Gordon close behind him.

"Dad," Scott said in a gentle but firm voice that made Gordon smile when he realized how much his oldest brother sounded like their father.

"Dad," Scott said again, placing his hands on his father's face. "Calm down. I just left Alan."

"What do you mean, you just left him?" Jeff argued. "You left your little brother alone? After what happened the last time he was here?"

"Dad," Gordon laughed. "Tin-Tin is with him. Trust me, I pity the idiot who tries to mess with Allie when she's around."

Jeff allowed himself a small smile. The daughters he was in the process of gaining were as loving and fierce as Lucy had been. But before he could say anything, another voice could be heard.

"OK, OK," Kate argued as they wheeled her in. "Bullet is out, so cut the ties. I don't wanna be here, got it? I'm a big girl. I tie my own shoes, I drive a car, I carry a gun and I sleep with this really hot guy."

Dr. Wetherall was going beet red while the Tracys were trying not to laugh. Kate on medication was funny as hell.

"Actually," Kate stage-whispered to the nurse, "Scott and I don't sleep much. He is so hot. I mean – I am talking hours of toe-curling sex." She looked up and gave Scott a goofy grin.

"Hey! I was just talking about you," Kate beamed.

Scott blushed as his father and brother chuckled. "So I hear. But not everyone needs to know that, Katie."

"But I didn't tell them about the barn," Kate argued. "I didn't tell them how we danced under the fairy lights and then you proposed and then we -"

"No," Scott interrupted. "And we aren't going to, are we?"

When Kate looked to speak again, Scott gave a quick, firm kiss to silence her, an act that left her as bemused as the medication had. "He loves me," she grinned at the room. "He wants to marry me. See?" she held out her hand, frowning when she noticed the missing ring.

"Hey! Where's my ring?"

Scott grinned as he sat on the bed with her. Pulling the ring from his pocket, he slipped it back on Kate's hand. "I got it, honey. You couldn't wear it in the operating room."

Dr. Simone entered at that moment, shaking her head. "You Tracys are troublemakers, you know that?"

"Dr. Simone," Jeff said, forcing the cobwebs away as he thought of his youngest. "How is Alan?"

"Alan must have been under a great deal of strain," she began only to have Gordon to interrupt.

"Ya think?" Gordon sniped.

When his assembled family glared at Gordon, Dr. Simone continued. "Alan's blood pressure must have risen dramatically. There are indicators that he was dangerously close to having a stroke."

"What?" Jeff gasped, seeing his children's appalled looks and unsure what else he could hear.

"In most cases," Dr. Simone went on as if Jeff hadn't spoken, "this would be very dangerous with Alan's clot. But in rare cases, it can cause a clot that had already begun to break up to basically shatter."

"Are you saying Alan's clot is gone?" Gordon whispered.

Dr. Simone nodded and Gordon ran past her only to return a minute later.

"Alan's fine," Gordon said, hiding his red face.

"What do you mean, Alan's fine?" Kate mumbled. "How do you know?"

"If he's well enough to be making out with his girlfriend," Gordon snapped, "then Alan is fine."

Jeff and Scott looked at each other and chuckled before saying in perfect sync.

"He's gonna be fine."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - Thanks, we are almost done. Keep it up, who do you think Alan should answer with next chapter. Leaning towards Jeff.**_


	24. Chapter 24

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - Do not own Thunderbirds or Numb3rs. Bobble-head Alan is nodding his agreement._**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24<strong>

Don Eppes sat in the family waiting room, relieved to be alone as he pulled out his cell phone. Luckily, this was one of the areas of the hospital that allowed cell phones.

Well, at least there was no one here to tell him he couldn't.

On the other end of the call, the phone picked up on the first ring, telling Don that his wife had been awaiting this call.

"_Donald Alan Eppes – where the hell are you?" _Robin Eppes hissed. _"I believe you promised no work this weekend. We are supposed to be leaving for the bed and breakfast – well, we should have left a half hour ago."_

"Something came up, Robin," Don sighed.

"_Something always comes up, Don," _Robin began only for Don to interrupt.

"Robin, its Katie."

The dead silence made Don wonder if his wife had hung up. When Robin's voice came back on, it was thin and shaky.

"_Is she dead?"_

"No, honey – she'll be ok. She was shot -"

"_Shot? You call being shot ok?"_

"She was shot in the leg during a hostage situation," Don explained. "Those two nut jobs that were the reason Kate was, well – out of the office – had taken Jeff and Alan Tracy hostage."

"_Are they dead?"_

"The Tracys?" Don asked. "They were both hurt but are going to be ok. I think. I haven't gotten all the details but Scott Tracy doesn't seem too worried. Oh, and apparently he proposed to our daughter."

"_I'm glad to hear the Tracys will be alright but I meant the two jackasses," _Robin grumbled. _"If they are alive, you better save a piece of them for me. And Scott is no surprise. He asked for her ring size two weeks ago."_

Don rolled his eyes. And people thought Kate was like him. Well, she was but Robin could be just as fiercely protective as he was.

"And when were you going to tell me?"

"_Around the same time that you decide to tell me that our daughter was shot – again," _Robin snapped before sighing. _"Never mind. What hospital is she at?"_

Don gave his wife instructions and assured her that he had pulled a few strings to get her on the next shuttle to New York. Frankly, he felt better knowing Robin was on her way. Not to mention, her excitement over her only daughter's engagement and new job might save Don from a death glare over the fact that following in her father's footsteps had once again endangered Katie's life.

It would probably be reduced to a "you are so lucky it worked out this way, buddy-boy" look. At least, he hoped so.

* * *

><p>Jeff Tracy glared at the monitors, still annoyed at the doctors for insisting he remain in recovery for a little bit longer. Of course, there was the amusement of a medicated Kate Eppes.<p>

"And it was kinda funny, Gordon," Kate was insisting. "Jeannie Bates – oops, Jeannie Landman – kept trying to rat Scott out but Sarah had already told me so many of the stories. Of course, I didn't know Scott had scored a homerun – if you know what I mean – under the bleachers his junior year." Glaring at her fiancé, she snickered a bit.

"Seriously – outside? Under bleachers? Yuck."

"They were on a blanket," Gordon said in his brother's defense, only to have Jeff and Scott stare at him. He shrugged.

"Alan and Sarah Jane were looking Scott or John, since she had to go home. Luckily, Sarah figured out what you were into – um, I mean, up to – before the Sprout saw anything."

"Oh, I saw enough," Alan said cheerfully as he was wheeled in by Dr. Simone, Tin-Tin holding his hand. "I just didn't get it at the time."

"Alan," Jeff sighed in relief, trying to get up only for Gordon to push him back.

"Dad, rest so you can get moved to a room," the redhead said firmly.

"Yeah, Dad," Alan grinned. "You look like hell."

"Language, Alan," Jeff said automatically before it hit him what his youngest had said.

"Alan?" he asked, afraid to hope.

Tin-Tin had taken over command of the wheelchair and pushed her boyfriend so that he was right beside his father. Alan reached out and took his father's hand with none of his recent hesitation.

"It's still kinda blurry, Dad, but yeah – I can see," Alan said gently.

With tears in his eyes, Jeff sat up and pulled Alan into his arms, ignoring any pain from his shoulder as he held his baby close.

"Thank you," he whispered, not sure if he was talking to his late wife or God. Jeff was equally unsure from where he was hearing "thank you" but he was sure he had.

* * *

><p>Daria rubbed the back of her neck as she headed down the hallway. She had left her partner to clean up the details and had decided to see if Jackson Mitchell was medically cleared for her to talk to.<p>

"Yep," Daria muttered as she continued towards the room she had been directed to. "I miss my time with my baby, one of the few weekends my husband has off, and Eppsie still gets to relax more than me."

"She did have to get shot to do so," a voice spoke up behind her.

Daria whirled around to bitch at whoever was speaking only to freeze at the sight of FBI Director Don Eppes – Kate's father.

"Director Eppes," Daria said respectfully. "Any word on Kate?"

Don's dark eyes looked over his daughter's friend before giving a quick nod. "Kate is in surgery. Jeff Tracy should be out by now and Alan Tracy is still out for the count. So how are the bad guys doing in comparison?"

"I'm on my way to see Jackson Mitchell," Daria reported. "And Devon Flint died before they could get him to surgery."

"No big loss on that one," Don muttered. He blamed Flint for being the reason that Kate had left LA – and the safety of her family.

Daria gave him a speculative look. "Colby Granger said the only person as intimidating as Kate for an interrogation was you. So – you wanna come with me when I question Mitchell?"

Don looked speculative. "That's the one who shot Kate in Chicago, right?"

"And in New York," Daria said cheerfully. "He even hit the same leg both times."

"Oh yeah," Don muttered. "I want to talk to him."

* * *

><p>John Tracy looked at the text message Gordon had just sent. OK – good news: Alan could see, Dad and Kate were both hurt but both ok.<p>

Bad news – they were leaving it to John to tell the rest of the family what had happened.

Thanks guys.

* * *

><p>Jackson Mitchell was, to say the least, pissed off. He was heading back to jail without a doubt. But to make it worse, the Tracys were practically unscathed and he had never gotten his money. He had deserved that money.<p>

As for Flint, well – the jerk had deserved it. If he had wanted to be a pervert, the least Flint could have done was not act that way in front of Mitchell.

Suddenly, Mitchell could hear raised voices outside of his room. The brunette from the office who had been with Agent Eppes entered the room, still arguing with his doctor.

"You said it yourself, Dr. Greenblatt," Daria said before continuing with a cheerfulness that Mitchell couldn't help but feel was out of place.

"Your patient – aka my perp – is clearly not in any danger, and is available for questioning. And the FBI has a few questions for him that he will be answering."

The young doctor practically ran out of the room, more than aware that Agent Delgado's voice had become threatening and not sure if she was threatening him or his patient.

As Mitchell and Daria glared at each other, Don Eppes slipped in, standing by the door. It had been a long time since he had helped grill a suspect. He hoped it was as much fun as he remembered.

"You know," Daria began as she reviewed her notes. "For a guy with such a high IQ, you sure are an idiot. Did you really think you would get away with this?"

Mitchell shrugged. There was no point in denying that he had been there. His lawyer could put a better spin on it than he could.

"Tracy owed me," Mitchell said coldly. "I timed it for when one of his sons was there. Everyone knows Jeff Tracy will do anything for his "true treasures", he sneered.

"You have an issue because Jeff Tracy loves his sons?" Don asked in dismay.

"I have an issue with someone who never understood what it was like to be denied anything," Mitchell snapped. "And then that Nazi bitch got in my way again. My only real regret today was that my shot missed and I only shot her in the leg. Look! That bitch Eppes shattered my shoulder! The doctor isn't sure I can get full use of it again. They removed the bullet but once the swelling goes down, I'll need surgery to pin the bones back together."

"So now you have an issue with Kate Eppes?" Don said coldly as he approached the bed.

A smart man would have shut up at this point, if not for the furious look on both agents' faces but for the mere fact that he was badmouthing an injured FBI agent to two of her co-workers. (The guy hadn't been introduced but his demeanor screamed Fed.) Jackson Mitchell was a very intelligent man.

But he was apparently not that smart.

"Yeah, I got a problem with that bitch. She messed things up for me in Chicago, got me thrown in jail and then she was feeding info to Carl Patrick that could have blown everything for me here. It was only because I got to Patrick first that she didn't. Now she shows up, shoots me and helps the Tracys. I know it was only because she is screwing the oldest Tracy son. Stupid little -"

Don got right in the man's face. He never laid a finger on the suspect but it wasn't needed. His entire demeanor was threatening.

"Sorry – forgot to read you your rights," he growled, rattling them off and ignoring Daria's statement that she had read both men their Miranda Rights back at Tracy Towers. Then Don added his own "rights".

"You have the right to thank God that Katie will be alright. You have the right to go to jail and rot there as far as I am concerned. You have the right to never even _think_ about my daughter again."

"Your daughter?" Mitchell squeaked, looking like he was ready to wet himself.

"My only daughter," Don said coldly. "My baby girl. A man will do whatever he has to protect his babies. Jeff Tracy was willing to do what he had to and I will make sure you never come near either of our babies again, got it?"

Mitchell stared into the cold, dark eyes. He had always wondered about Kate Eppes' eyes, so dark a brown they were almost black and when she was angered, it became impossible to see where her pupils and irises separated. They were eyes that promised retribution if crossed.

Kate Eppes definitely had her father's eyes.

Daria took a slight sniff. She'd have to let the nurse know when they left.

Mitchell needed new linens.

* * *

><p>Jeff was too busy holding onto Alan and assuring himself that his youngest was really, truly alright and Scott was trying to convince Kate that she really wasn't fit to get up and walk around for either of them to appreciate Gordon being the one trying to argue with the doctors that the invalids were capable of being cared for at home as easily as at the hospital.<p>

"My sister-in-law is an emergency medicine specialist, for goodness sakes!" Gordon grumbled. "Dr. Simone – you know what our infirmary is like, and not to mention, Virgil and Sarah Jane both have medical training. After what happened the last time Alan was here, there is no way any of us will relax with an overnight stay."

The doctors looked considering when the door to the recovery area opened and Don Eppes came in followed by Daria Delgado.

"Dorf!" Kate said cheerfully. "You got my gun? They don't want to let me out of this joint. C'mon, pally– let me out and I won't tell them how we hacked the NSA web site when we were at the Academy together."

"Too late, Katie," Don chuckled. "Not to mention, your Uncle Charlie figured out it was you a couple of years ago. You were probably the only person at Quantico at the time who could do a re-write to change all the English to Yiddish."

"You know Yiddish?" Gordon asked.

"Sure," Kate shrugged. "Learned it at Hebrew School."

"Hebrew School?" Gordon looked confused, making Don feel sorry for the younger man.

"Think of it as a combination history class and Sunday School."

"Wo-kay," Gordon drawled, unsure what to say that would be "correct". He wasn't used to trying to be correct but felt it was better for his health if he was around Kate.

Kate could be scary.

Then again, right now she was more funny than scary.

"Hey Daddy," Kate grinned up at her father. "I'm ok, no worries."

"Katie," Don said tenderly as he sat opposite Scott on Kate's bed. "I'm your father. I'll always worry."

"OK," Kate yawned. "But do we have to tell Mom about this? She'll freak."

"Too late and yes she did," Don assured her. "But when you tell her you are taking a job with the Tracys and that you are giving her a wedding to plan, you'll be forgiven."

Suddenly Don glared at Scott across the bed.

"And it was nice of you to let Robin know that you were about to propose to Kate," Don growled.

"Technically," Scott stammered, "I didn't tell her. I just asked her to get Kate's ring size."

"Still -" Don began only to have Kate punch him in the chest.

"No," Kate growled, sounding suspiciously like her father at that moment. "I'm gonna marry him. I love Scott and I'm gonna marry him. Tough cookies if you don't like it. I'm not seventeen and you won't meet my date at the door and proceed to clean your gun in front of him while you "remind" him how much you would be upset if he hurt me. Now, shake Scott's hand and tell him how lucky he is to be getting me."

Alan chuckled from his father's bed. "Scott, I wouldn't be worried about Mr. Eppes. I'd be more scared of Kate if you get her mad."

Kate grinned at Daria. "Told you our Alan was smart, Dorf."

"Dorf?" Gordon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"My maiden name was Morgandorfer," Daria muttered. "If your father wasn't here, Eppsie…"

Don chuckled. "You two remind me of one of your Uncle Charlie's friends – well, he called him a frienemy. Marshall Pennington. He and Charlie would argue constantly but…" Don sighed. "Marshall wasn't a bad egg in the end. Charlie even ended up being his best man. And later, gave the eulogy when he died. Too many good people…"

"But what about the idiots?" Gordon interrupted. "Any chance of us getting a few minutes alone with the two bastards who caused all this?"

Ignoring Jeff's muttered "language", the Tracys looked at the FBI agents. Daria in turn looked to Don who nodded his approval.

"Devon Flint died of his injuries," Daria began, giving a gentle smile to Alan when he sighed in relief and leaned back into his father's arms. "Jackson Mitchell will recover. He's lawyered up but we are hoping to discover where he had been hiding out. Maybe we'll find out who has been helping him from that."

"A shot to the shoulder doesn't seem enough," Kate grumbled.

"He's going back to prison," Daria argued.

"Not enough."

"You shattered his shoulder," Don countered.

"Not enough," Kate said mulishly.

"Your dad made him defecate himself all over his sheets," Daria grinned.

"You did that for me?" Kate grinned up at her father. She beamed at Scott. "Isn't my Daddy the best?"

Scott looked stunned while Alan and Gordon burst out laughing. Tin-Tin remained where she was, chuckling as she commented to the room, "They say a woman marries a man like her father. Too true."

Scott was now looking annoyed but ended up grinning instead. Being compared to Don Eppes wasn't so bad. He'd gotten worse.

Alan smiled from the comfort of his father's embrace. Life was as close to perfect as it got. Life was good.

* * *

><p><strong>Alan – Hi, folks! OK, Alan Tracy and this here is my Dad. Say hi, Dad.<strong>

**Jeff – Um, hi. So…we just answer the reviews?**

**Alan – Yep. OK, lets start with sammygirl1963, who writes:**

_**LOL, I can't help but grin as I think of all those male cops and civilians almost clenching their legs together and assuming a protective position after hearing Brittany say she doesn't miss...but hey, if you ask me, Flint deserved to be shot where he did after raping so many young boys! Thank goodness he was taken out before he could defile Alan is such a horrible way. Way to go Brittany!**_

_**LOL, Don Eppes is just like Jeff...does not want to know when his children are having 'that kind' of fun! Loved his "TMI baby girl" comment!**_

**Jeff – Well, she got that one right. There are things a father never wants to know.**

**Alan – When did Brittany shoot Flint?**

**Jeff – After you collapsed. And I must say, I felt no sympathy for the creep.**

**Alan – I thought you felt everyone deserved a second chance.**

**Jeff – Not anyone who hurts my boys.**

**Alan – Wo-Kay…Alrighty, on that note – the next response is from laurashrub.**

_**I was thinking Gordon hadn't had much of a chance to have an incredibly embarrassed moment. The assembled Tracys (in name and to-be) should take this moment to appreciate it. You KNOW Gordon will be playing a prank to make sure others share the joy.**_

_**And oh Brittany! No words can describe how much I love what you did. Please do not let that be the last we see of you.**_

**Alan – Yep, the ladies like Brittany's shooting. And does no one realize how much I've walked in on with four older brothers?**

**Jeff (frowns) – Like what?**

**Alan – Um, like…Next letter! alamodie said:**

_**Yay! happy ending =) medicated!kate is too funny tho, id love to see her again ;) and poor Gordon! You're always having Tracys walk in on each other**_

**Jeff – Is alamodie talking or texting?**

**Alan – Didn't think you got text speak, Dad.**

**Jeff – Huh, how do you think I kept up with your brothers?**

**Alan – Pfft. Easy – you'd ask me, I couldn't keep a secret to save my life.**

**Jeff – True. OK, on to mizz-shy-gurl who said:**

_**As a female, I was smirking with Brittany's shot.**_

_**I can see that the story's coming to a close. (As can Alan now).**_

_**Please update soon**_

**Alan – That girl is such a smart ass.**

**Jeff – Language, Alan.**

**Alan – Oh, well – Kate always says "Better a smart ass, than a dumb ass".**

**Jeff (sighs) – Kate is going to be a great influence, I can tell.**

**Alan – OK, BELLA X STARFIRE7745231 says:**

_**I say Jeff also. I thought it was funny when Kate was talking about stuff that she didn't need to be saying. I wished this story wasn't almost over, but I understand. I love your Thunderbird stories!(:**_

**Jeff – Jeff also what?**

**Alan – Who should help me answer reviews.**

**Jeff – Whew, I was worried she wanted me to walk in on one of those "intimate" moments. And I NEVER want that. GOT THAT, CC. (both shake so hard they almost fall) WHOA! What was that?**

**Alan (shrugs) – CC nodding. OK, on to jo1966:**

_**That was a brilliant chapter. Kate was absolutely awesome when she was medicated "toe-curling sex" fantastic. And Gordon walking in on Alan and Tin Tin made me laugh. You are such a gifted writer. Thanks for yet another really enjoyable story.**_

**Alan – "Toe-curling sex"? Why do I miss all the good conversations?**

**Jeff – Because something has to go my way. Now, Autohumans said:**

**I think Jeff should say to Alan; "Alan, you have got a lot of explanation to do Mr."**

**Jeff – No, I'm mainly grateful you were just kissing Tin-Tin.**

**Alan – Ugh – Dad, puh-lease. When Tin-Tin and I move to the…well, when we, um…Oh, heck. No public sex. I'll save my adventuring for the Thunderbirds.**

**Jeff – For which I will also be eternally grateful.**

**Alan – So you've heard the stories about my brothers? (when Jeff nods, Alan tries – and fails – not to snicker.) Um, moving on to JoTracy123:**

_**Ok loving this story but wasn't really expecting this update. So well done you for not keeping us hanging for too long. Because we know how evil you are with the kid. I have my story wrote and ready to go but have to wait till around the 12th of February before I can post it here. Aww well at least you never disappoint with Alan. As this story is getting better every time loving this and make sure that you update soon**_

**Jeff – Feb 12th for a story? Valentines Day Story?**

**Alan (shrugs) – Either that or Abraham Lincoln's Birthday. And CC has a life, people! She'll update as fast as she can.**

**Jeff – CC does seem to like cliffies.**

**Alan – Oh, she does. But only when she writes them. Oh, we are on to John's stalker.**

**Jeff – I thought this was Sam1?**

**Alan – That's what I said.**

_**Another brother, well two in this case, embarrassed about a certain topic none of them ever want to see their brothers engaging in. Actually, Alan's wasn't to the level Scott has so obviously gotten to but poor Gordy.**_

_**Loved medicated Kate. She was friggin hilarious with that little stage whisper.**_

_**Nicely done, CC, with this update as well as the entire story so far. Will get the snark back to you tomorrow night after work. Hard at work with the next bit of that certain story we're writing.**_

**Jeff – Other story?**

**Alan – Not sure, but CC says neither me nor her daughter is allowed to read it when it's done.**

**Jeff – Oh, lord – not one of those.**

**Alan – One of what?**

**Jeff – Um, next comment is from Bookfanatic67.**

_**Oh this was great. The bad guys have been caught...for now. Kate on drugs IS funny as hell. Alan is making out with Tin-Tin so, yes he will be fine...for now. More soon please.**_

**Alan – I really want to be there when Kate is stoned next time.**

**Jeff – With CC writing, it is probably doable.**

**Alan – OK, now Joanne Brandon said:**

_**I loved this chapter - favourite yet! Kate on medication is brilliant and I want more of that - the whole barn mention was awesome, my mum was like that when drugged up! Also the garble Gords came out with was funny, especially the whole Tracy women are terrifying. I think Gords is generally brilliant though with the whole Al is making out he'll be fine thing. I totally love Brittany and I hope she doesn't get charged, maybe have a little love interest in Gords - I can't remember when but I thought oh they'll be great together. Overall amazing chapter and can't wait for another update.**_

**Jeff – What? Gordon can't find a girl who doesn't work for me?**

**Alan – Dad, we don't tend to do normal hook-ups. And with our lives, if they aren't involved in one of the family businesses, we may never meet anyone.**

**Jeff – OK, but I don't know why I have five such "active" sons.**

**Alan (mutters) – Then maybe you and mom shouldn't have had so much sex.**

**Jeff – What did you say?**

**Alan – Um, nothing…uh – last comment. Bubzchoc just said:**

_**Excellent chapter**_

**Alan – And so it was.**

**Jeff – Yes, it was.**

**Alan – OK, this is the last full chapter. CC said before she went to work that she had an epilogue but needs at least ten reviews before she will post it. If she gets ten, it will be up by Wednesday. Fifteen gets it Tuesday.**

**Jeff (chuckles) – What happens for twenty?**

**Alan – Monday.**

**Jeff – More than twenty?**

**Alan – Two weeks. CC will have fainted, hit her head and her hubby will take her laptop away until she recovers completely.**

**Jeff – Hmmm. But if she hits her head, she has to stop her work on the next story.**

**Alan – Good point. OK, people – let's knock CC out. Literally.**


	25. Epilogue

**Six Degrees of Seperation Isn't Far Enough**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer **_ - **_I do not own Thunderbirds, or Numb3rs._**

**_But I do want to thank all of you for following along with this story. This is a bit of a short epliogue to wrap up this part of the story. I will be taking a bit of time off, then launching a new story. No, not a Gordon story. Although he will have hooked up with someone new it won't be his soulmate. More like a "hi, wanna have movie and breakfast. yes, I know it's seven at night." But staying friends afterwards. Not sure how long the next story will be, as I just starting out lining it._**

**_Now, apparently, Alan said fifteen reviews would get this posted by Monday. Not sure what time it is where you are but it is still Monday in New England. (Cold as freaking Hades but still Monday. Hey, read Dante's Inferno sometimes. He describes I believe the 10th level as icy cold.) Thank you for not giving in to the kid for the twenty. Seriously - the kid wants me hurt? What did I ever do to him?_**

**_I just may have to come up with something new and different to do to Alan. The question is...am I up to the challenge? _**

**_Hell Yeah._**

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue –<strong>

_**Three weeks later.**_

Kate Eppes sat at her desk in Boston, eyeing the almost unnatural cleanness of the surface top.

"Last day, huh?"

Kate smiled up at Polly Garcia, the technical analyst leaning in the doorway, an overflowing pile of records in her arms.

"So," Kate drawled, "I hear someone likes the researcher who is replacing me."

Polly blushed, the bright red clashing with her newly colored auburn hair. The woman began to frantically look around the room.

"This place looks so – plain," she stuttered.

Shrugging, Kate stood up, closing a file and leaving it on the desktop. "Last official FBI document – my copy of my exit interview. I needed to sign off on it. As for my stuff, it's already boxed up at Tracy Towers."

"Why is it boxed up?" Polly asked.

"So Dad can have the stuff put in it's place, once they paint the office and put in the new rug, plus some furniture I picked out, since Kate was reluctant to pick out furniture appropriate for her position," Scott said from the doorway.

Polly smiled, touching Scott's arm before hugging Kate. "We're going to miss you. And you," she snapped, poking Scott's arm. "You take good care of her, hear me? I may not be the best shot but I can mess up your financials so badly, it will take every accountant your daddy employs to fix it, got me?"

"She's scary," Scott said as Polly stalked off, head held high, determined to do her crying in private.

Kate chuckled. "People do tend to underestimate her."

"So," Scott drawled. "Ready to fly to LA, make your mom happy and plan a wedding? I was thinking of Valentine's Day. It gives your mom plenty of time to work with, is after the holidays, not to mention Virgil and Sarah will be all settled and safely married by then."

"They are getting married in September," Kate said. "It still being August gives plenty of closer dates."

"Well," Scott said, "John and Emily's baby is due in October, so that will be too stressful to plan around. My birthday and Thanksgiving is in November – I'd rather not. December has John and Emily's anniversary and Christmas – oh, and Chanukah. Sorry, Kate – never had to think of that before. Huh, I guess January would be fine, I just thought Valentine's Day would be romantic. But January would be sooner."

"I was thinking more of something before Alan goes back to school," Kate muttered.

Scott chuckled. "Katie, Allie goes back to school in just over two weeks. I mean, the kid is doing great. The therapist Emily recommended is really helping him and Dad emotionally, his sight is just about perfect and Alan passed all the physical tests the doctors – and Dad – insisted on. Emily even gave him the ok for heading back to track. She and Dr. Simone are insisting he drop doing the high jump but he is alright for his other positions."

"I talked to the rabbi at my family's temple," Kate continued, as if Scott hadn't spoken. "There was a wedding scheduled for a week from Sunday, but it got cancelled at the last minute. The bride objected to who else her groom was sleeping with."

"The maid of honor?" Scott asked in amusement.

Shaking her head, Kate gave a fleeting smile. "The bride's mother."

"Could have been worse," Scott mused. "Could have been the bride's father."

Kate nodded absently. "Anyhow, Rabbi Lebowitz said he can marry us then. If you are still alright with being married in a temple."

"Honey," Scott grinned, "I'd marry you in at a mud wrestling tournament. But why do you want to push the date up so soon?"

Kate played with her engagement ring, reluctant to meet Scott's eyes. But the oldest Tracy son stepped forward and raised her chin, forcing his fiancée's eyes to meet his.

"Katie – what is it?"

"I had my full physical before I officially leave the Bureau," Kate started before freezing. Shaking her head, she brightened as she said, "I know – let's stop in Vegas on the way home. We can get married before we go to my family. And – and there is one place in Las Vegas you can get married by an Elvis impersonator. For extra money you can even get a Cher impersonator for the wedding song."

"Katie," Scott said firmly. "What is wrong with you?"

"I don't know if I would call it wrong," Kate murmured. "But -" she sucked in her breath before continuing.

"Remember the night we got engaged?"

Scott smiled. "The barn, the rain, the music, the lights -"

"Us forgetting birth control?" Kate interrupted. When Scott's eyes went wide, Kate nodded.

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

><p><em><strong>FIN<strong>_


End file.
